Coping Strategies
by celticgal1041
Summary: "We get that you need some time on your own to work through things, but as coping strategies go, yours is pretty crappy." An AU tag to episode 1.15.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This chapter marks the start of a multi-chapter story, which is my first foray into this fandom. The story is completely written and goes AU after episode 1.15. Hope you enjoy.

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He moved slowly and methodically, each shift of his body carefully considered before it was enacted. He'd been fortunate; that's what the doctor had told him, stating that getting shot and falling from a moving vehicle could have resulted in a much graver ending. He didn't dispute the doctor's claim, but the tenderness in almost every part of his body belied the other man's assertion. He was pretty sure that even his bruises had bruises.

Stabilizing himself by propping a hip against his dresser, he carefully bent at the waist, leaning forward just enough to snag the duffle bag that sat at the bottom of his closet. The bag was already partially packed, a habit he could blame on his days in the Navy when he might have to leave with very little notice.

Raising his upper body awakened the bruising along his ribs and a dull burn emanated from the slash on his side. He resolutely ignored the discomfort as he dropped the duffle onto the adjoining bed. Despite his slow movements, it took only a minute to add a comfortable pair of sweatpants, an old, favorite shirt, and the meds and bandages that had been pressed on him when he'd been discharged from the hospital.

Contrary to his friends' opinions, he didn't enjoy pain and wasn't nearly as self-destructive as they believed him to be. The events that had led to being shot had been mostly outside of his control, and he'd had no interest in ending up in the hospital at their conclusion. That had made the worried looks on Rick and TC's faces that much harder to bear, as their expressions silently asked, "Why did you let yourself get hurt…again?"

He knew that it was a testament to their strong bond that his friends felt his hurts as keenly as if they'd been injured themselves, but Thomas found it hard to look past the guilt he felt each time he met their concerned expressions. So, he resolved to do everything in his power to ease the lines around their eyes, to smooth their brows and unfurl their hunched shoulders by graciously allowing every bit of help they selflessly offered. It was for them that he was a model patient, refusing to add to his friends' worry by going against medical advice.

When Rick and TC had settled at his hospital bedside, insisting they'd stay the night, he'd acquiesced without argument, simply nodding in gratitude at the thoughtful gesture. He would never tell them that their doting was almost suffocating him, their every thoughtful act oppressive instead of kind. Each time they asked if he was alright, adjusted his covers, or helped him take a drink was just another reminder that he'd failed them again by bringing fear and stress back into their lives.

He'd stayed overnight at the hospital even though he'd chafed at being stuck in a sterile room that smelled of disinfectant and hints of the industrial detergent that kept the bedsheets pristinely white.

He'd dutifully closed his eyes when instructed to rest and stopped himself from fidgeting when sleep refused to come, unwilling to give the men another reason to fret.

He'd 'woken' tired but resolute, having used the sleepless hours to decide his next course of action. While his friends, his brothers, meant well, it was all too much to deal with right now, so he nodded at his doctor's instructions, got into Rick's car for the drive back to Robin's Nest, and allowed himself to be guided inside and fussed over until his friend felt comfortable enough to leave him alone. The man's exit had prompted Thomas into action, recognizing he had only a small window of time before Higgins came to check on him, or TC arrived after his mid-morning helicopter tour.

Leaning against the bed, he lifted one leg to place his knee onto the end of the duffle, holding it in place while he zipped it up with his good arm. The action once more pulled at his sore side and he bit his lip against the pain, refusing to give voice to it. He glanced down at his left arm, momentarily considering discarding the sling that held it tight to his body, but decided against it. He'd forgone his morning pain medication so he'd be clear-headed enough to drive, and removing the sling would make his shoulder throb even more painfully than it already was.

Grabbing the duffle, he took a last look around his room, confirming he had everything he'd need for the next few days. With slow, careful strides, he made his way out of the guest house, glancing in the direction of the main house to confirm he was still alone. He threw his bag into the back of the car, and then carefully slid into the front, grimacing as abused muscles were forced to flex and contract.

He exhaled in relief once he was seated, taking a moment before reaching across his body to pull the car door closed. As his aching body protested, he considered abandoning his plan and simply heading back inside where a soft bed awaited. Shaking his head, he turned the engine over. His reasons for leaving hadn't changed, and he knew it was the right course of action, regardless of how it would upset his friends.

Putting the Ferrari into gear, he slowly navigated the driveway, letting out another sigh of relief once he'd exited through the main gate and put Robin's Nest into his rearview mirror. Pressing down on the gas pedal, he accelerated smoothly, pointing the vehicle toward the highway and his escape.

* * *

Foregoing knocking, Higgins simply used her master key to quietly let herself into the guest house. Rick had called her after he'd dropped Magnum off earlier, and then she'd waited another forty-five minutes before checking on him, thinking he might want to freshen up before heading to bed.

She was surprised to find his bedroom empty, and the bed showing no signs of recent occupancy. A frown graced her face as she returned to the main room, confirming that the couch didn't show any signs it had been used, either. Exiting the guest house, she moved towards the beach, knowing Magnum's love of being outside. The lines on her brow deepened as her gaze took in the empty expanse of sand ahead of her, and she automatically pulled her cellphone from her pocket.

Dialing quickly, she tapped one foot as she impatiently waited for Rick to answer.

"Hello," the man barely managed to say, before Higgins was interrupting him.

"Is Thomas with you?" she asked, her tone sharpened by worry for the absent man.

"Juliet?" Rick began.

"Is he with you?" she repeated insistently, growing irritated with the man's lack of response.

"No," he replied. "I called you after I dropped him off, remember?" Higgins hummed noncommittally in response, her mind already turning over the problem of the missing man. After a short pause, Rick continued, "Are you saying he's not in the guest house?"

She bit her lip for a moment, considering whether it was best to be honest or offer a more general answer to avoid worrying the other man. "Juliet, what's going on?" Rick asked, concern now coloring his words.

Deciding on the direct approach, she said, "I've just been to check on him and he's not there."

She could hear Rick's deliberately slow exhale as he struggled to remain calm. "Have you checked…"

"Yes," she interrupted. "He's not at the beach, either. I'd hoped that you or TC had returned and picked him up for some reason."

"Please tell me the car's still there," Rick pleaded. Higgins was already in motion before he'd finished speaking, silently berating herself for not checking earlier.

When she arrived at the side of the house where the Ferrari normally sat, she let out a long exhale, her stomach dropping at the sight of the empty space. "It's gone, isn't it?" Rick asked, his tone now resigned.

Higgins pulled a hand through her curls in frustration, annoyance overwhelming her earlier concern. "I can't believe he'd risk driving in his condition," she replied, exasperation clear in her voice. "What was he thinking?" she said, mostly to herself. "No, he wasn't thinking," she rambled on, only stopping when Rick interjected.

"He's not reckless and this isn't about the car. This is his way of coping," he stated with a resigned sigh.

"Coping?" Juliet repeated, her mind slow to comprehend the meaning of the man's words.

"Tommy did the same thing after Afghanistan, and after every other incident he considered his fault. I just thought…" Rick trailed off, wondering if he'd said too much.

"Thought what?" Higgins prompted, her concern for Magnum's wellbeing once more surging to the forefront.

"I thought with you there and TC and I staying with him last night…I thought it'd be enough to keep him here," Rick replied.

Juliet swallowed thickly, regretting her decision to give Thomas some time alone. "I see," she responded, trying to infuse some level of confidence into her words. "Surely we can simply go get him and bring him back. I mean, a man in his condition…"

"No, we can't," Rick interrupted. "We've tried to track him down before, but he always manages to disappear somehow and won't be found until he wants to be." He chuckled mirthlessly for a moment as he continued, "I swear his ability to vanish is why he's so good at finding things for other people."

Grudgingly accepting the man's answer, Higgins asked, "So what do we do now?"

Several seconds passed before Rick replied. "We wait and hope he's not stupid enough to hurt himself any more than he is already." Juliet nodded, unsure of how to respond.

"Look, I've got to let TC know. If he happens to get in touch or shows up, let us know right away," Rick ordered.

"Of course," Higgins replied, the call disconnecting a moment later as Rick hurried to contact TC. Juliet lowered the phone from her ear, her eyes scanning the grounds of the estate, while her mind planned her next steps. "Where are you, Magnum?" she muttered softly, before turning on her heel to stride back to the main house.

To be continued...

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**A/N:** Many thanks to AZGirl for proofing; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Given real life's demands, chapters will be posted twice weekly, on Sundays and Wednesdays. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for the great response to the first chapter of this story, including the guest reviewers who I can't reply to individually. Hope you enjoy this next part!

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While he knew his friends would be upset, he also didn't want to unnecessarily worry them, so he placed two calls before turning his phone off. As expected, TC's phone went directly to voicemail, the man never responding when he was up in the air. Unexpectedly, the same thing happened when he dialed Rick's number, so he left two virtually identical messages for his friends, explaining his need to get away for a few days, asserting that he had his meds and would be fine on his own, and assuring them there was no need to be concerned.

Shortly afterwards he stopped for gas, treating himself to one of the few full-service gas stations left on the island in deference to his battered state. While the attendant filled the tank, Magnum busied himself by disabling the car's GPS, fully expecting his friends' efforts to track him down despite his pleas for some time alone.

Several minutes later he was back on the road, his destination just under an hour away to the west of his current location. He'd be staying in a small cottage owned by a former client. Magnum smiled to himself as he remembered the grateful man's offer, which had been made to make up the shortfall in his fees. His smile grew as he imagined Higgins scolding him for his fiscal irresponsibility, but he'd known when he'd accepted the offer that an unknown and secluded place to stay was likely to come in handy at some point in the future.

He was startled from his musings when a strong gust of wind attempted to push the Ferrari to the right, Magnum compensating automatically while a frown appeared on his face. He'd been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he'd missed the telltale signs of bad weather moving in. Where the sky had been a brilliant, cloudless blue when he'd left Robin's Nest, it was now streaked with storm clouds that threatened to drop a significant amount of moisture.

Glancing at his rear and side mirrors, he decelerated and pulled to the side of the road. As soon as the car stopped, he pressed the button that activated the roof mechanism, waiting impatiently for it to click into place. While he wasn't in any way pressed for time, his body had begun to loudly protest the abuse he'd suffered, and he was becoming desperate to get to his destination and fall into bed.

Pulling back onto the road, he accelerated to just above the posted limit, willing to take the risk of being pulled over in exchange for the payoff of arriving sooner. Now that he was aware of the worsening weather, he couldn't help but feel anxious about getting to his destination, having learned from experience how quickly conditions could change. It wasn't at all unusual to have dry, sunny weather in one area while torrential rain fell in another, and from the darkening sky, he was heading towards the latter.

The wind continued to pick up strength, buffeting the low-slung vehicle. Magnum was beginning to feel the strain of keeping the Ferrari in between the lines, his arm growing tired and sweat dotting his brow as fatigue and injury asserted themselves. Soon, the wind gusts were joined by rain, the first few sprinkles morphing quickly to fat, heavy drops that obscured his view. "Crap," he muttered under his breath, guiltily sending a silent apology to Higgins as he momentarily braced the wheel with his left knee, while he turned the windshield wipers on high.

He couldn't remember the exact location of the cottage he'd be staying at but remembered the exit he'd need to take. His eyes were beginning to burn from constantly straining to see through the rain dappled windscreen, and he cursed softly under his breath when he almost missed the turn he'd been watching for.

He followed the road for five miles before turning off again, this time onto a barely marked road that forced him to reduce his speed to a crawl, the surface of hard-packed dirt turned muddy with the sudden downpour. "Damn," he swore as the vehicle slid, forcing him to reduce his speed even further. From conversations with his client, he knew the driveway to the cottage would be a couple more miles down the road, but he hadn't factored in the poor conditions when he'd decided to make the trip in the high-end sports car.

"Higgins would kill me if she saw the Ferrari now," he mumbled to himself, cringing at the amount of mud that was likely covering the exterior of the vehicle. Another torrent of rain lashed across the front of the car, the copious amount of water made more dangerous by the strong winds that had it striking almost sideways as it hit the windshield.

He bit his lip as he waited for the wipers to clear the glass, swearing loudly and stomping on the brakes when his view suddenly cleared. The car slid sideways as the tires fought for purchase on the muddy road before finally coming to a halt. Magnum exhaled shakily as he let his head drop back against the headrest, his uninjured arm falling from the wheel to land in his lap. 'Too close,' he thought to himself.

He sat still for over a minute, waiting until his heartrate returned to normal and the adrenaline in his body had begun to abate. When he felt less shaky, he swiped his hand across his brow, wiping away the sweat that had gathered there. "Okay," he said to himself. "Time to see how bad things are." Turning the ignition off, he reached across his body to open the door, pushing against it with his left leg as the wind tried to push it closed again.

He staggered out of the car, his movements lacking their usual athletic grace as muscles stiffened from lack of movement were forced reluctantly into action. As soon as he was free of the door, the wind pushed it closed behind him, pressing his body against the metal frame of the car. Magnum was thankful that the outside temperature was relatively warm, despite the windy and wet conditions. Unfortunately, that was the only bright spot.

The wind itself howled and pushed at him relentlessly, tossing water, leaves, and grass around in equal measure. Already, he'd had several smaller branches and leaves smack against his body as he squinted in order to see through the rain. Comparatively, the water was a minor irritation even though he could already feel how heavy his clothes were becoming as the fabric eagerly soaked up the moisture that fell. If Higgins didn't kill him for the condition of the car's exterior, she surely would after she saw the results of him dragging his wet, muddy body back inside.

Resigning himself to being out in the less than ideal conditions, he carefully moved forward, not wanting to add slipping and falling in the mud to his current list of woes. He cringed as his shoes sank into the soft earth, bracing himself on the car as he moved around it to view the obstacle he'd nearly hit.

For several long moments he simply stared before lifting his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in a fruitless attempt to push back the headache that had taken root. A section of a medium-sized tree lay across the road, blocking his path. Fortunately, he'd managed to stop in time and the Ferrari's body was undamaged.

Shifting closer, he studied the fallen tree, wondering if he'd be able to move it enough to pass. He placed a foot on the trunk and pushed, but the tree didn't budge. Changing tactics, he knelt beside it, putting his arm underneath and then trying to lift. The tree remained motionless, but Magnum folded in half over its length as his injured flank screamed at his foolish actions. He found himself panting painfully while the tree supported his weight, the muscles across his left side seizing after his foolhardy attempt.

Lifting his head, he painfully pushed himself to a standing position, waiting a moment for a wave of dizziness to pass once he was fully upright. "Lifting tree bad," he murmured as he waited for his body's discomfort to slowly ease. Exhaling shakily, he considered his options, coming to the unhappy conclusion that he'd have to turn around and head back, his way ahead impassable.

With defeat and fatigue bowing his shoulders, he slogged back to the driver's door, a look of shock and disbelief appearing on his face when he tried and failed to open it. Tugging on the handle several times in rapid succession, he finally gave up and slapped the roof of the car. "You've got to be kidding me," he spat as he realized he'd managed to lock himself out. Pressing his face to the glass, he could clearly see the car's key fob lying next to his phone and wallet in the center console; so close and yet completely out of his reach.

Could this day get any worse, he idly wondered to himself as the rain continued to drench him. He surveyed the road, confirming what he already knew – it was rarely used and the likelihood of anyone coming along to help him was slim. Next, he calculated the distance back to the main highway, estimating that it would take him several hours, at best, to make his way back. Breaking one of the Ferrari's windows was just as swiftly considered and discarded; there was no way Magnum was going to give Higgins another reason to yell at him.

Shifting his attention farther up the road and past the fallen tree, he tried to see into the distance, but the wind and rain kept visibility to a minimum. Still, walking the rest of the way to the cottage was probably his best bet, and he was certain he was no more than a mile away.

Uselessly tugging one more time on the door handle, he turned and walked back to the fallen tree, carefully climbing over it. He kept to the middle of the road, tiredly placing one foot in front of the other, with his head bent forwards to keep the worst of the rain and debris from his eyes. His progress was slow, with the mud quickly caking onto his shoes, causing him to partially slip with every step he took.

The exertion soon had him breathing heavily, causing the ache in his ribs and head to spike with every inhale. Pausing, he looked back over his shoulder, disheartened to see the short distance he'd covered, despite his body feeling like he'd run a marathon. "No easy day," he reminded himself, beginning his painful plod once more.

He let his mind wander, disconnecting from the discomfort of his physical self as he moved on autopilot. It was a good thing his friends couldn't see him now, he reflected, cringing at the dressing down he'd receive if they saw his current condition. The thought brought a faint smile to his lips, knowing the men only fussed over him because they cared. He knew their devotion made him exceptionally fortunate, and he felt a momentary pang of regret at having left them behind.

He was startled from his ruminations by a new sound which had him looking up towards the sky in search of lightning. There was nothing but more rain, however the roaring sound of thunder persisted and seemed to be steadily growing louder. His heart skipped a beat as he turned his attention to the right side of the road, which rose steeply into the rainforest. While he continued to watch, he saw the first stream of muddy water, followed swiftly by a mix of dirt and debris.

As realization dawned, he forced his body into an awkward, staggering run, the slippery surface beneath his feet denying him any real speed. The roaring grew ever louder until it drowned out the sounds of his ragged breaths and his feet wetly smacking against the ground. In between one heartbeat and the next, he was knocked off his feet, caught in a swirl of dirty water and debris that swept him off the road and into the forest on the other side.

He was momentarily submersed before fighting his way to the surface, miraculously holding his breath until his face was out of the water. His elation at not having inhaled any of the dirty liquid was quickly lost as his body was thrown against a tree that knocked the breath from his chest. Reflexively, he inhaled, pushing liquid instead of air into his lungs as his head once more bobbed beneath the surface of the rushing water that held him.

Again, he fought his way up, not really certain what direction that was in as his body continued its erratic descent down the side of the hill he was on. Coughing harshly as soon as his face was clear, he struggled for air as he was struck by a variety of obstacles. Suddenly, his careening journey came to an abrupt end as he hit something hard and unforgiving with his shoulder.

His vision whited out as pain sparked across overly sensitive nerve endings, before tunneling darkly as consciousness fled. The water and mud slowed as it played itself out, the brief flashflood and subsequent mudslide a cruel reminder of nature's fury. It flowed almost gently now as it moved around the young Koa tree and the man who'd somehow managed to get tangled in its branches. Within minutes, it was over, and the only sound was the steady thrum of the rain as it fell on the still man's face.

To be continued...

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**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Next chapter will be posted on Wednesday. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	3. Chapter 3

Juliet angrily slammed down the lid of her laptop, experiencing only a moment of regret for her abuse of the technology. She'd followed every lead she could think of, checking the Ferrari's GPS, attempting to track Magnum's phone, and scouring the island's traffic cameras for any sign of the wayward detective, but all without success. For such any easy-going man, he could be incredibly frustrating, she thought to herself.

Certain she already knew the answer, she dialed Rick to find out if he or TC had had any better luck. "Anything?" she asked as soon as he'd picked up.

The sigh on the other end of the line gave her the answer she'd expected. "Look, it's not your fault you can't find him," Rick began. "When Thomas wants to be alone, he's really good at disappearing."

Frustrated by her fruitless search, she allowed some of her exasperation to bleed through as she asked, "Aren't you the least bit concerned? He's only just been released from hospital, and it's not even 24 hours since he was shot." Pausing to try and compose herself, she went on, "How can you be so calm?"

"Higgins…Juliet, I'm not happy he's gone, but he left messages for me and TC to let us know he'd be back in a few days," Rick explained.

"He called you?" she questioned accusingly, immediately feeling a pang of jealously that Magnum hadn't called her as well.

"Yes," the man confirmed. "And before you go reading anything more into this, he probably didn't realize how worried you'd be, otherwise he would have called you too."

Higgins sniffed, slightly mollified by Rick's explanation. "What did he say in his message?"

"Just that he needed some time alone, that he was fine, and that we shouldn't worry," Wright replied.

"And that's enough for you?" Higgins pressed, not yet ready to let the matter drop.

"No," Rick replied. "But Thomas is my friend, and that means respecting his wishes, even if I don't necessarily agree with him."

The implied admonishment in his words was clear, and Juliet swallowed uncomfortably. She didn't have to like the fact that Magnum had gone off on his own, but to try and find him and bring him back against his will would be a breach of their fledgling friendship. "Very well," she managed. "You'll let me know if you hear from him?"

Rick's smile came through as he replied, "You know I will."

As satisfied as she could be given the result of their conversation, she ended the call, finding herself oddly irritated that Magnum had managed to make her worry. Resolving to put the matter aside, she pushed back from the desk and stood, deciding that an hour of yoga was just the thing to distract her.

* * *

He awoke coughing, each harsh exhale lancing painfully through his chest and encouraging his return to consciousness. He groaned miserably when the spasms ended. His entire torso was nothing but pain, the aching so complete that he couldn't distinguish where one hurt ended and another one began.

Opening his eyes was another form of torture, and he was surprised to find himself squinting against sunlight instead of the earlier heavy rain. Even opening his eyes to mere slits made his head pound, and he moaned again at the feeling of his skull cracking in two.

However hurt he'd been when he'd started his journey, things were obviously worse now, and part of him considered simply closing his eyes and allowing the darkness to take him once more. Luckily, his stubborn side disagreed, and he forced his eyes to open wider instead of allowing them to close. "Damn," he softly muttered at the sight that appeared.

The devastation around him spoke of the hundreds of gallons of water that must have swept down the hillside. Everything had been flattened and lay covered under a layer of thick, dirty water, with leaves and small sticks floating on the surface. In several places, trees stuck up out of the mud and water that covered them, suggesting that he'd need to be very careful of where he stepped once he managed to get upright. "Damn," he repeated to himself, awestruck at what nature had done.

Licking dry lips, he grimaced at the taste of dirt he found, realizing belatedly that he'd essentially been tossed around like clothes in a washing machine, except that this washer had been filled with filthy water. The thought brought a deeper frown to his face as he began to wonder exactly where all of the mud had ended up. Shivering momentarily, he pushed the random thought aside to focus instead on his current situation.

He was fortunate to be in an upright position, and a shift of his head to the left provided the explanation – his arm was tangled in the crook of a tree. That would explain the numbness in his arm, he thought to himself, as he concentrated and tried to get his fingers to twitch. The movement was minor, but the resulting pain was spectacular, and he chided himself in between panting inhales as he sought to tamp down the fiery pain. "Numb is good," he breathed out as the pain in his shoulder slowly receded.

Deciding that moving his injured arm was a bad idea, he turned his attention to standing instead. Letting his right hand drop into the water, he felt the area around him, not finding anything other than a thick layer of twigs and mud. "Alright, Thomas, time to get yourself out of this mess," he said, wondering fleetingly what his friends would think of him talking to himself. The thought brought a momentary grin to his face as he imagined telling them about it later.

Steadying himself with his good arm, he pulled his feet back until they were underneath him before pushing himself slowly upwards. The movement immediately pulled on his injured shoulder and side, and he gritted his teeth against the new flare of pain as he continued his ascent. Moments later, he was upright, his left arm dangling sorely as the blood rushed back into the numb limb.

He stood there for over a minute, bracing his left arm against his middle with his right hand in an attempt to alleviate some of the weight that pulled painfully at his gunshot wound. Once the throbbing in his shoulder had abated to a more tolerable level, he released a shaky exhale and began to plan his next steps.

A quick look around confirmed that the sling for his arm was long gone, likely dragged farther down the hillside or buried in the muck that surrounded him. Idly, he hoped that nothing else important had been lost. Fumbling with the mud-covered buttons on his shirt, he managed to locate and unbutton a couple, allowing him to slip his left hand inside so it was supported by the fabric. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it would allow him the use of his uninjured arm.

Next, he shifted slightly, fighting the mud that tried to hold him in place so he could look upwards in the direction of the road. He'd been accused many times of being overly optimistic, but he knew the truth about himself – when it came right down to it, he was a pragmatist at heart. Luckily, he was also eminently stubborn, as his friends loved to frequently remind him. Given his current situation, the two traits would serve him well, as he considered his options and quickly came to the conclusion that he needed to make his way back to the road, no matter how difficult the journey.

With no obvious path in sight, he resolved to simply start moving, already preparing himself for the difficultly of his task. His first step forced stiff and sore muscles to work, and he grimaced at the full body ache that seemed to have encompassed him. "That wasn't so bad," he mused to himself. His next step had him gasping in pain, as it pulled on his back muscles and the knife wound on his left side. "You've had worse," he allowed, surprised by the intensity of the pain, but determined not to let it stop him.

Each step was a battle against the sticky mud that squelched uncomfortably in and around his shoes, and a body that had been pushed almost to its breaking point. Rather than focusing on the many sources of pain that were clamoring for his attention, Thomas drew inward, letting his mind occupy itself with other things. Unfortunately for him, he was soon caught up in examining the events of the past couple days.

_"__If you want to ask about Hannah, just go ahead."_

What in the world had he been thinking, opening up about his lost relationship and, worse yet, telling Higgins about the woman who'd betrayed him?

_"__I am rather curious."_

Magnum snorted at the recollection of Higgins' words. Curious had been an understatement. Curiosity implied an enthusiasm to learn something new and interesting, not the morbid fascination associated with hearing about an experience that's a complete and utter disaster. Talk about the train wreck of relationships.

_"__Just remember, I asked you nicely to stand down."_

Hannah had always been nice, or at least she had been while they'd dated. It was a shame that he hadn't discovered the rock hard centre underneath all that niceness until it had been too late. Until he and the others had been captured. Until their captors had deprived them of their comfort, safety, and basic human rights – everything but their honor. Until she'd taken away his last bit of hope when her role in their capture became clear. Nice wasn't a word he'd ever associate with her memory again.

_"__You're not gonna shoot me."_

It killed him to admit that she'd been right. Regardless of what she'd done, of everything he and the others had to endure because of her actions, he would never willingly take her life. So, what was so wrong with him that she hadn't felt the same way? When she'd had the opportunity, she'd taken it without hesitation, shooting him and causing him to fall from the fast-moving truck. Had he really been that terribly wrong about her that he'd completely missed the well of indifference and greed that drove the woman he'd loved?

_"__Stop it, Thomas. You can't keep doing this to yourself,"_ Rick's voice chided him.

"Sure, I can," Magnum huffed out in reply to his absent friend. After all, hadn't he always taken responsibility for his actions? Done whatever it took to make sure his friends survived his idiocy and lack of judgement? If guilt was an Olympic sport, he was certain he'd take the gold medal.

He was pulled from his ruminations as he stumbled, his foot coming down on something uneven that rocked his shaky balance. As gravity tried to pull him down, he fought to regain his equilibrium, attempting a quick two-step to stop himself from falling. The mud that he'd been fighting against the entire time chose that moment to assert its dominance, refusing to release his back foot.

His sudden inability to move his back leg further disrupted his fragile balance, and he found himself wind-milling his free arm as he struggled to stay upright. His efforts lasted only a moment as gravity won out and he tumbled to the ground. His left side was the first to collide with the ground, his arm still tucked into his shirt, leaving him unable to catch himself. The impact sent tendrils of fire streaking through his shoulder, which blazed hotly in his vision before being replaced by nothing but black.

To be continued...

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**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Next chapter will be posted on Sunday. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	4. Chapter 4

"Robin's Nest, Juliet Higgins speaking." Her tone reflected her improved mood, her yoga workout having had the desired effect of clearing her mind and settling her emotions.

"Is this where Thomas Magnum lives?" a voice asked hesitantly on the other end of the phone.

A small thrill of annoyance ran through her at the question, threatening to undo the sense of calm her yoga session had provided. She was majordomo of a multimillion-dollar estate, not Magnum's secretary. Her tone was sharper as she replied. "Yes, but you'll need to call his number directly if you want to speak with him."

She was about to end the call when the next words stopped her in her tracks. "I'm afraid something may have happened to him. I've been calling all day, but he hasn't picked up."

Her brow furrowed at the statement, not yet willing to believe there was any cause for concern but intrigued enough to stay on the line. "What makes you think something's happened to him?" she asked, choosing not to disclose the fact that the detective had his phone turned off.

"There was some bad weather around my cottage, and I'm worried he may have gotten caught in it," the caller explained.

Juliet's frown deepened with the realization that this man had information she herself had been unable to get. "I see," she said noncommittally, hoping the man would continue.

"A neighbor in the area said the road was washed out in a couple places, so I've been trying to find out if he made it there okay," he concluded. "Do you know if he's alright?"

"How do you and Magnum know each other," Higgins interjected, choosing not to respond right away.

The man's tone conveyed his slight confusion as he replied, "He did some detective work for me a few months ago." He paused for a moment before repeating his earlier question. "Look, do you know if he's alright? Maybe I should call the police instead."

"No, that's not necessary," Higgins quickly replied. "I'm certain that Magnum is fine." She heard a noncommittal hum from the other end of the line. "How about this, Mr…" she trailed off, hoping the other man would fill in the blank.

"Stevens, Arthur Stevens."

"Mr. Stevens. Why don't you give me your number and the location of your cottage? I'll get confirmation of Magnum's safe arrival and then ring you back to let you know." She held her breath for several seconds as she waited for the man to make up his mind.

Finally, Stevens sighed and said, "Alright." Snagging a pen and paper, Higgins wrote down the information she'd requested, barely managing a polite good-bye before she disconnected the call and dialed Rick.

As soon as the call connected, she said, "I know where he is."

"Higgy, this is starting to look borderline stalkerish," Rick replied with a smile in his voice.

Juliet rolled her eyes at the response before continuing. "Look, a former client of Magnum's called because he's worried that something may have happened to him. Something bad. Apparently, Thomas was going to stay at this client's cottage but some of the roads were washed out due to heavy rain. He couldn't reach Magnum and is worried."

Several moments passed before Rick responded. "You _do_ know that Thomas has his phone turned off?"

"Yes," she snapped in exasperation, one hand moving to push the curls away from her face. "Don't you think we should at least confirm Magnum has made it to his destination? That way I can put his client's mind at ease." Not to mention mine, she thought to herself. "What's the worst that can happen if we show up there?"

"Thomas will think we don't trust him to take care of himself, and he'll rabbit again," Rick promptly supplied.

"Yes, I suppose that's true, but what if he truly does need help?" she countered, biting her lip as she waited for the other man to consider her argument.

"Fine," Rick acquiesced. "You win. But if he's mad, I'm blaming you for everything."

"Of course," Higgins quickly concurred. "You'll call TC and let him know?"

"Yeah, I'll call him," he agreed.

"Excellent. I'll prepare the Range Rover and await your arrival. If road conditions are anything less than ideal, we'll want the traction and maneuverability the Rover can provide," Higgins stated.

Unbeknownst to her, Rick was checking his watch and mentally calculating how long it would take for him and TC to get there. "We'll be there in 45," he said, already moving to collect the things he'd need.

"Good," she replied, disconnecting the call and turning her own thoughts to packing. There was a strong chance that everything was fine, and that they'd find Magnum comfortably ensconced in his hideaway. Of course, this was Thomas, and trouble seemed to find the man in the most unlikely places. She turned towards the kitchen, resolving to pack some food and several water bottles before heading for the large first-aid kit in the bathroom.

* * *

He came up spluttering, spitting out the filthy water that had managed to make it past his lips. Several jarring coughs followed as his lungs protested the dirty liquid he'd inhaled. It had taken several long seconds for him to reposition himself, shifting from his agonizing left side to a point where he could push himself upwards with his right arm. He hadn't made it any further than that, happy simply that he'd managed to ease his upper body out of the muck enough so he could breathe again.

To his surprise, the water only came up to his chest while seated, and he decided to take advantage of the unplanned, and somewhat disgusting, respite before attempting to stand. Despite the warm air, the muddy water had begun to cool, and he shivered as his body registered the lower temperature he was now submerged in. When another shiver wracked his frame, he resigned himself to the fact that his impromptu rest was over.

His earlier attempt at standing had gone extraordinarily well, especially if comparing it to his current attempts. The mud underneath him seemed to have molded to his frame, and it took several tries to get it to release him. The arduous process of getting his feet under him came next - a procedure that nearly dumped him back into his original position. He finally managed to gain his feet, his achievement accompanied by several choice swearwords that would have had even his former SEAL teammates blushing.

He stood for several long seconds, slightly hunched over in deference to his injured left side. The constant pain was sapping his energy just as much as his physical exertions, making him slow to begin moving again, despite knowing he had no other choice. Fleetingly, he considered checking his side and shoulder for signs of renewed bleeding, before realizing that he was covered in mud from head to toe. If the wounds had reopened, there was nothing he could currently do about it.

Running a filthy hand through his hair, he grimaced when his fingers came into contact with a twig, which he promptly pulled out and tossed aside. Sighing carefully, he once more tucked his left arm into his shirt, doing his best to ignore the renewed throbbing of his shoulder. Planting his foot carefully, he plodded forward, wondering how far exactly he'd been carried by the rushing wall of water and mud.

The sun was making its way across the sky, and its bright rays beat down mercilessly on his back, chasing away his earlier chill. Running his tongue over dry lips, he wished for a drink of clean water to quench his thirst and to remove the taste of dirt from his mouth. It wasn't like he'd never been thirsty before, but the last time brought with it memories he'd rather forget.

_"__Thomas, open up," a voice commanded. _

_He shifted his head to one side, trying to ignore the command as something wet touched his lips._

_"__Don't fight us," another voice joined in, the deep baritone doing nothing to disguise the worry that accompanied the words._

_The wetness came again, finding his lips despite his best efforts to avoid it. _

_"__You need to drink, Thomas," a third voice pleaded, and suddenly he could no longer move his head away._

_He let out a low whine of displeasure, trying and failing once more to turn his head. _

_"__Squeeze his jaw," someone said, and the hands on his face repositioned until there were strong fingers pressing into the sides of his jaw, forcing his mouth to open. Immediately, wetness invaded, the first drops tasting like the sweetest nectar. As more drops followed, his befuddled brain awoke, registering the earthy taste that had him fighting again._

_"__Hold his arms," someone said as he flailed his arms in an attempt to dislodge the hands that held him._

_The wetness approached again, the roughness of it on his mouth leaving him with the impression that he was kissing sandpaper. The sensation pulled a strangled cry from his lips, and his legs joined his efforts to escape, heels digging into the ground as he tried to push himself away._

_"__Damnit, no!" someone cried, and he could sense the bodies around him scrambling to capture his thrashing limbs. _

_Moments later he found himself restrained even more tightly than before, and he whimpered in response to his captors' actions._

_"__God, Thomas, no, we're not trying to hurt you," a contrite voice said._

_"__Let's try again," he heard before the pressure on his jaw increased and the wetness returned. This time he was overwhelmed by the smell of mold that had him gagging and fighting to close his mouth against the men who continued to torture him._

_"__Damnit, this isn't working," a resigned voice complained, and Magnum silently congratulated himself. _

_Above him, his three friends traded glances, their expressions painted with misery at their inability to get water into their ailing brother. Nuzo looked disgustedly at the dirty, wet rag in his hands, tempted to throw it against the wall of their prison, while at the same time unwilling to waste the precious water they'd painstakingly collected. _

_The men had persisted and eventually succeeded, but Magnum had still ended up dangerously dehydrated by the time they'd escaped._

"Not there anymore," he muttered, the words barely discernable as he breathed them out. He just needed to get back to the road and then make his way to the cottage. There, he'd satisfy his body's desire for water, drinking his fill before showering until all traces of his latest adventure had been washed away.

"Just need to get back," he reminded himself, unaware that he'd come to a stop and stood swaying in place. "Jus' little f'rther." His eyes slipped closed as he swayed once more, before his knees buckled, dropping him heavily to the ground.

To be continued...

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Next chapter will be posted on Wednesday. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	5. Chapter 5

"You sure this is the right way?" TC asked, leaning forward from his spot in the second row of seats behind Higgins and Rick.

Juliet stopped herself from rolling her eyes, reminding herself yet again that they were all somewhat on edge right now, making tempers short. Instead, she kept her voice low as she calmly said, "I double-checked the directions, both against the map and the GPS. I'm certain we're on the correct road."

TC seemed satisfied, although he remained in the same position, elbows propped on the backs of the two front seats. He alternated watching the road in front of them and checking the time, first against the watch on his wrist, and then against the digital clock on the Rover's dash. No matter how frequently he checked, time continued to crawl by, making him idly wonder if they'd entered some sort of odd time dilation field.

"You with us big guy?" Rick's voice penetrated his thoughts.

TC's upper lip lifted in a slight grin. "Yeah, of course, where else would I be? I mean, if it's not Thomas pulling me away from work to help him out with a case, then it's you needing some oddball favour." He snorted, his smile expanding as he did. "If it wasn't for the two of you, I'd have a perfectly normal existence."

Grinning, Rick glanced over at his friend. "Normal is overrated." TC chuckled at the comment before the other man went on. "Besides, it's not my fault. This time it's all on Higgy."

This time there was no avoiding the eye roll that threatened, and Juliet glanced in the men's direction, so they didn't miss her reaction. "Say what you will, but you'll be thanking me when we find Magnum pulled over somewhere on the side of the road."

"And why is he pulled over instead of at the cottage?" Rick asked, willing to engage in some light banter to pass the time.

"Because he drove through a large puddle and stalled the engine," Higgins replied after a few seconds' thought.

"Nah, he'll have slid into a ditch after getting his sling caught up in the steering wheel," TC countered.

"You're both wrong. Obviously, he managed to get a flat tire, but couldn't change it himself. Thomas is good at a lot of things, but he was never particularly mechanically inclined," Rick ended to appreciative giggles.

They fell quiet after that, each of them retreating into their own thoughts and none of them willing to voice their true concerns, lest they come true. What if Magnum had passed out at the wheel from sheer exhaustion? What if he'd had an accident while trying to drive through the torrential rain, as he navigated unfamiliar roads?

Juliet slowed to make the next turn, the Range Rover easily making the transition from paved to unpaved roads. The three traded fearful looks as their worries ratcheted up a notch. Although no one spoke, the tension was palpable.

After only a few hundred metres, the road's condition grew worse, with instances of deeper mud and eventually small branches and other debris that had been blown onto the road. TC whistled as they drove past a larger tree that had been toppled to their left. "You don't think…" he left the rest of his question unsaid as Higgins slowed down in deference to the road conditions.

"No, Thomas' luck has been iffy in the past, but there's no way it's bad enough that he had a tree fall on him," Rick stated with forced confidence.

Several more minutes passed before Rick's voice broke the silence once more. "There's something up ahead," he said, leaving the other two squinting to see what he'd spotted. Moments later, an object became discernable in the distance, and Rick added, "It's the Ferrari."

TC merely shook his head from his spot, marveling at his friend's incredible eyesight, which had also made him such a deadly sniper. "You see Thomas?" he asked, trusting that Rick would be able to spot their friend first.

"No," Rick answered, drawing the word out as he continued to scan the road ahead of them.

Juliet bit her lip as they neared, finally getting close enough that she could get a good look at the car. She'd expected something – some sort of damage or clue to Magnum's whereabouts – but the Ferrari looked fine. Dirty, but undamaged. She didn't know whether to be relieved or upset.

"It looks okay to me," TC remarked, putting voice to Higgins' thoughts.

"Yeah," Rick concurred, impatiently waiting for the Rover to get closer. As Juliet slowed, he opened his door and lithely jumped out, having to rebalance quickly as he adjusted to the slippery mud beneath his feet. He was followed a moment later by TC. Two slamming doors accompanied the Rover's stop, Higgins unable to be upset given that she felt the same impatience to be out and investigating.

She put the vehicle in park and immediately exited to join the two men. TC was walking around the Ferrari, doing a visual examination until he could get a look under the hood, while Rick had his face and hands pressed again the driver's window.

"All of his stuff is in the car," he announced after straightening up again.

"Ferrari looks okay, too," TC added. "Don't know why he didn't just turn around and go back."

"Go back?" Juliet questioned, not yet having seen the obstacle in the middle of the road.

"Yeah, tree's blocking the road," TC replied, motioning to it with one hand, prompting Higgins to shift position to see what he was pointing at.

"There's no way he could have moved that in his condition," she stated softly, almost to herself.

"No, he couldn't," Rick agreed, surprising her somewhat that he'd caught her words. "As for why he didn't turn around, it looks like he managed to lock himself out." He pulled on the door handle to illustrate his point.

At his comment, Juliet moved forward to see for herself what Rick had seen through the window. She stared at the items for several seconds before turning to the men to say, "But I always keep a spare key in the boot."

"No way he could've known that," TC said as he shrugged.

"No," she countered as she made her way to the trunk. "He did know. We had to use it yesterday after Hannah and her goons stopped us and took his key fob." She popped the trunk and pulled out the spare she'd been referring to, holding it up for both men to see. "The signal from this fob was strong enough that he could have unlocked the boot. Plus, I made sure to tell Magnum that I'd had new fobs programmed and delivered while he was at the hospital, and I replaced this key as soon as they were done. Why didn't he use it?"

Both men's brows were deeply furrowed as they considered the implications of what they'd just heard. Releasing a long sigh, Rick scrubbed at his face as he faced the reality of the situation. "Because he couldn't."

Not quite ready to admit that anything had happened to the other man, Higgins asked, "I suppose it's possible he simply forgot. Lord knows he's forgotten dozens of things I've said to him in the past."

TC was already shaking his head. "No, he wouldn't forget, not something like this."

Juliet looked ready to argue, but Rick's expression matched TC's, and both clearly communicated the belief that Magnum would have remembered. "Alright, then," she said, willing to agree with the two. "What do we do now?"

"We try and move this tree and then keep looking," Rick said, TC nodding once in agreement.

Both men bent to grip the trunk at either end, Higgins positioning herself nearer the middle. They gave her a look, which she returned with a glare, daring them to suggest she not help. It seemed they knew better, and after trading glances, TC counted down. "On three we lift and swing forward and to the right. 1, 2, 3."

They lifted in tandem, easily bearing the weight between them to maneuver the tree onto the right side of the road.

Moving away from the fallen tree and back towards the Rover, Juliet announced, "The turnoff to the cottage should be just a few hundred metres ahead."

"Great," Rick replied, already beginning to walk along one side of the road.

Higgins paused as she watched the two men moving away from her. "Where are you going?"

"We'll walk, you drive," TC said from the other side of the road.

Clearly neither man was satisfied that they would find their friend safely ensconced at the cottage as they scanned both sides for any signs of the missing man. Rather than argue, Higgins climbed behind the wheel and matched their pace as she kept to the centre of the rutted track. They only made it a few hundred metres before having to stop again.

"My God," Juliet breathed out as she came to a stop and placed the vehicle into park. Climbing out quickly, she joined the two men who now stood staring at a section of ruined road.

In front of them, a section of the road had simply vanished, the hard-packed earth swept away, leaving a gaping hole over ten feet wide. Both sides of the missing road appeared to have gotten similar treatment, and they could see a wide swath cut through the trees and bushes.

"What in the world?" Juliet pondered out loud.

"Road's been washed out," TC stated confidently, having seen similar devastation in the past.

Rick was nodding in concurrence. "The rain caused a flash flood that started somewhere up there," he pointed to the incline on their right. "Swept away everything that was in its path."

He shifted his gaze in TC's direction, catching the other man's eye. Moments later, they were both in motion as they headed to get their supplies from the back of the Rover. Higgins turned in place to watch them. "You think Magnum got caught in this," she stated, no hint of a question in her tone.

Rick shrugged as he pulled his pack free from the vehicle. "Best to check it out and make sure," he replied noncommittally. TC had already shouldered his pack and was leading the way to the edge of the road where it disappeared into the trees.

"Surely it would be best to check the cottage before we go scrambling through the muck," Juliet persisted. "I mean, he could be there, safe and sound, while we're out here wasting our time wandering around."

TC nodded in agreement but didn't stop. "You should check it out."

"Yeah," Rick turned and walked backwards for a moment as he spoke. "Call us and let us know. We'll come right back if you find him."

Higgins was torn for several long seconds as she watched the men step off the ruined road and carefully make their way down the muddy path that had ripped through the forest. She desperately wanted to go with them, but the rational part of her brain knew the cottage also needed to be checked. Growling lowly in frustration, she finally called after them, "Fine. I'll be in touch as soon as I've made it there."

Rick raised a hand over his head in acknowledgement, neither man's pace slowing. She stood watching them for a few moments longer until they disappeared from view before returning to the Rover to get her things. She turned the vehicle off, threw her pack across one shoulder and started making her way around the destroyed section of road.

* * *

The strong smell of mold and decay assaulted his senses. It was the first thing he was aware of as he returned to consciousness. Caught in a semi-aware state, his mind struggled to identify why the scent was so familiar.

As his brain sluggishly considered the smell, his fingers twitched against something soft and sticky, adding another sensation for his mind to make sense of and compounding his confusion. The next thing he registered was feeling hot all over. One side of his face seemed especially warm, uncomfortably so, and he managed to minutely shift his head as he tried to get away from the heat. The movement prompted a throbbing in his skull, and he groaned lowly in discomfort.

Turning his head slightly, his sluggish mind registered the presence of something cool beneath his face, and he turned further into it without thought. His new position intensified the smell of dampness and decay, causing his brow to furrow in response. The smell signified something, something important – why couldn't he remember? His fingers moved of their own accord, and he registered the grittiness of the ground against his skin.

Moaning again, he struggled to make sense of what was around him, something in the back of his mind signaling a need for urgency and action. Forcing his eyelids open to mere slits offered no additional clues, his vision filled with blurred shades of brown and green. Without his consent, his eyes slipped closed, knowing already that he was losing his battle to stay awake. With a sigh, he slipped back into pain-free unconsciousness.

To be continued...

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Next chapter will be posted on Sunday. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	6. Chapter 6

The same sense of confusion and urgency accompanied Magnum's next foray into awareness, with his scrambled brain trying to understand why he felt so on edge. Mud, grit, decay, heat. His mind recalled all of the sensations he'd registered earlier, finally coming up with one alarming conclusion – danger!

Before he'd even managed to properly open his eyes, he was pushing himself up, grunting with the effort. He only managed to get about six inches off the ground before a fiery pain in his shoulder swept through his supporting arm and dropped him back heavily onto the ground. He automatically bit back the sound of pain that threatened, having conditioned himself to rob his captors of any satisfaction by staying silent.

He lay still as he waited for the ache in his shoulder to ease, listening the entire time for any signs that he was being watched. When several minutes passed, he finally felt safe enough to open his eyes. Blinking owlishly, he stared in surprise at the foliage that surrounded him, stunned when he finally took in the muddy track that he was on.

Had he escaped? Slowly, he rolled onto his stomach so he could get his good arm and knees underneath him. Pushing up, he sat back on his haunches, shifting his gaze to check his six and the rest of his surroundings to see if it was all clear, but finding no other signs of life. The greenery seemed wrong, but his muddled brain wasn't thinking clearly enough to recognize that he was in an entirely different environment. He must have escaped, he concluded.

The thought brought a faint smile to his lips, the bottom one cracking and bleeding, but his pleasure was fleeting as a new fear gripped him. Where were his friends? Surely, he wouldn't have left them behind. Racking his brain, he absently rubbed his hand across his forehead, unknowingly rubbing away some of the mud that had dried there. Letting his hand drop, he came to the startling realization that he had no memory of how he'd gotten here – wherever _here_ was.

Staggering to his feet almost defeated him, and he swayed drunkenly once he was upright as a wave of dizziness assaulted him. "Don' feel good," he groaned softly, surprised at the gravelly quality of his voice. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed as he waited for the world to stop spinning. When it finally did, he reopened them to have another look around.

Three options presented themselves: muddy trail going upwards, muddy trail going downwards, or into the forest. Without hesitation, he moved from the swath cut by the earlier tidal wave of water and moved unsteadily into the foliage. He may have escaped, but he'd need to find help, and he couldn't do that if he stuck to the path where he could be recaptured.

He gripped the elbow of his left arm, trying to ease some of the burning ache that seemed to have taken up residence in his shoulder. Unfortunately, his body had been pushed past its limits and he was no longer aware enough to be concerned about his earlier wounds. As a result, he had no inkling that he'd now missed at least two doses of antibiotics, not even remembering having been shot and cut with a knife. Had he been thinking more clearly, he would have made it a priority to check those same wounds and find something with which to clean out the dirt and grime that had seeped past the sodden bandages.

Most importantly, if he'd been at even half his normal health, he might have recognized the heat that burned beneath his skin, making his mouth and eyes uncomfortably dry while his head throbbed in time with his heart. But he wasn't healthy; he was weak and feverish, and quickly succumbing to an infection that threatened to end his life. Numbly, Magnum plodded on, his mind trapped in another country, in another time, completely unaware that every step he took brought him closer to collapse and ultimately death.

* * *

The trail cut by the water and debris was relatively easy to follow as long as you paid attention to where you were placing your feet.

"Damnit," TC swore as he tripped over another of the branches that littered the ground. To his left, Rick snickered. "Laugh it up, funny man. You won't be thinking it's so funny when you trip and fall on your ass."

The comment only made Rick's grin widen. Humour was an integral part of their relationship and had been critical to their survival when they'd been captured. It would have been easy to fall prey to the horrors of their captivity, but they'd made a pact to survive, and survive they had. Not that there hadn't been moments when they'd believed they'd be meeting their maker – in truth, those had happened much too frequently – but anger about what had been done to them would only have gotten them so far. It was in those moments they had turned to humour.

Nuzo, in particular, had been the king of bad jokes, the kind that made you groan out load and laugh at the same time because they were so bad. Rick's jokes were more of the R-rated variety, and he'd even managed to get the others to blush at some of the raunchier ones. TC did his best, but his delivery tended to be off. More often than not, he'd begin chuckling to himself before getting to the punchline. His inability to keep a straight face ended up being funnier than anything he said.

Magnum had mostly refrained, occasionally offering witty one-liners, but no jokes. It wasn't because he didn't have any to share, but because he always seemed to be on guard. He would laugh along with the others, but a part of him was always distracted, waiting for the next beating, the next interrogation, or simply the next _whatever_ that he perceived as a threat. The entire time they'd been held, he'd never once offered a joke of his own.

"Orville, you okay?" TC called, having observed the change that had come over his friend.

Rick shook himself from his reverie, silently chastising himself for allowing his mind to go _back_ _there_. Forcing a smile, he met his friend's concerned gaze as he replied. "Yeah, fine."

TC watched him for several seconds before offering a slight nod. The times when they got caught up in their memories were few and farther between, but they still happened. In those instances, they made sure to be there for each other, recognizing that their close relationship was the best support there was for moving on.

"You really think he got caught in this?" TC waved a hand in the general direction they were walking to illustrate his point.

Rick shrugged. "Do you?" he asked, glancing in the other man's direction.

Neither of them had said anything, but they had the same unsettled feeling in their guts. If anyone could end up stuck on an impassable road, get locked out of their car, and then get swept away by flood waters, it was Thomas. "Yeah, that's what I thought," TC stated, confirming that neither of them expected their friend to be found at the cottage.

"Hold up a sec," Rick called, reaching for his phone as it buzzed. He frowned as he read the text. "No luck at the cottage," he said as he sent a short response back to Higgins.

TC nodded, his worried expression matching the other man's. They unconsciously fell into step with each other, scanning the area around them for any signs of their missing friend.

* * *

Higgins had arrived at the cottage quickly, a sense of dread pushing her faster than she might normally have moved. She'd done her best to maintain a positive attitude and to convince herself that Magnum would be safe and sound when she arrived. In her mind, she'd even conjured an image of his annoying smirk as he teased her about caring so much that she couldn't leave him alone. That fantasy had been rudely ripped away as soon as she opened the door and stepped into the vacant space.

She'd already had a sense of what she'd find, not having seen any footprints on the road or front entryway of the small house. Ignoring the slight trembling in her fingers, she'd entered the code for the door, thanking her gift of forethought for having gotten the information from the owner when they'd spoken. Swinging it open quietly, in case Magnum was asleep, she was greeted by a comfortable-looking space that was completely devoid of human inhabitation.

Sighing, she toed her shoes off just inside the door, not wanting to track in any of the mud that now stuck to the soles. The cottage was laid out like a studio apartment, letting her see virtually all of it from where she stood. To her left was a kitchen, with a short countertop, fridge, and stove all lined up against one wall. Ahead was the living area, with seating for four and a glass-covered, wicker coffee table.

A room divider separated the sitting area from the sleeping space, which was occupied by a double bed and small side table. On the right wall was the only other door, which she assumed led to the bathroom. Needing to be sure before she texted Rick, she gently pushed against the door and it easily swung inwards revealing an efficiently laid out 3-piece bathroom but no Magnum. "Bugger," she swore under her breath.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone, letting Rick know what she'd found, or in this case, failed to find. He responded quickly with a status update on their search, asking her to stay put, just in case. She chafed at the request, desperate to be doing something, anything that would bleed off some of the excess adrenaline that had been her constant companion since the client's call.

Grudgingly, she acquiesced, not wanting to add additional stress by arguing with Rick and insisting she join them. Texting her agreement, she demanded they contact her as soon as they knew anything. Seconds later, he confirmed, leaving her to fret on her own. "Where the hell are you, Magnum?" she asked the empty space as she dropped her pack and began to pace.

* * *

No matter how hard he gripped his left wrist in an effort to keep the limb from moving, every stumbling step jarred his shoulder. He knew he wasn't in the greatest condition, but something kept pushing him forward, despite the thick vegetation that tore at his clothes and tangled his uncoordinated feet.

His sense of time was all but lost at this point, and his only clue came from the setting sun that had left his path even more treacherous than earlier. When he'd first detoured into the trees, the sun had been bright enough to filter through the thick canopy above his head, but thick shadows had slowly crawled across the forest to choke away the last of the light.

Despite his sense of urgency to continue moving, he now searched for a place where he'd be able to spend the night. He couldn't recall who he was running from, but knew it was important that they not find him. Normally, he'd consider climbing a tree, but his painful left side made that an impossible feat. He'd briefly considered a cave before the fog over his brain had lifted enough to realize the terrain he was navigating had no such features. That left him looking for ground cover that was somewhat dry and dense enough to hide him from view.

He tripped again, this time on a large leaf whose size rivaled a tennis racket. The offending foliage had him falling forward before he could catch himself, right into the trunk of a large tree. He impacted with his left shoulder, feeling a burst of fiery pain from his wound, and maintained only enough awareness to grasp the tree trunk with his other hand before it sent him stumbling to the ground. He ended up clinging to the tree with his right arm, head titled down to rest against the rough bark as he panted against the hot pain that emanated from his shoulder to encompass his entire left side.

When he stopped feeling like he was going to vomit because of the pain, he lifted his head and blinked away the tears that had reflexively sprung to his eyes. "Done," he breathed out shakily as he acknowledged that his stubbornness would no longer be enough to keep him on his feet. He was shaky and exhausted, his skin covered in a cold sweat that made him shiver despite the heat that had steadily built behind his eyes.

Almost blindly, he took two steps toward a large growth of ferns, sinking to his knees in their midst. He didn't register the dampness that began to seep through his pants almost at once as the rest of his body slid to the ground, leaving him lying on his right side under a canopy of green. His eyes slid closed immediately as he released his hold on the conscious world, sinking gratefully into an uneasy sleep.

To be continued on Thursday...

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

**Due to Christmas, the next chapter will be posted on Thursday.** Happy Holidays!

Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	7. Chapter 7

"It'll be dark soon," TC announced as he glared at the setting sun.

Rick merely glanced in his direction, already aware of how short their time was to find Magnum. "We've got flashlights," he pointed out, even though his tone was unconvincing.

"Won't be enough," the larger man replied, confirming what Wright already knew – they'd have to call off their search shortly.

Rick gritted his teeth, pushing out his reply as though it pained him, which on some level, it did. "Another 15 minutes before we turn back."

TC nodded in agreement, willing to push things as long as possible before they returned empty-handed. The trail they'd followed had gradually become more difficult as they'd descended. Nearer the road, there'd been some debris, but the further they'd travelled, the more they had to carefully pick their way to avoid slipping on leaves and mud, or to be tripped by the increasingly larger pieces of detritus from the forest.

"How much farther you think this goes?" Rick asked as he motioned towards the path of destruction.

TC cocked his head as he considered the amount of debris, the depth of the mud, and the slope that had steadily been decreasing as they approached flat ground. "Another two, three hundred metres, maybe?" he called. "The water would have been moving pretty fast originally, but it would've eventually lost speed as the ground flattened. The amount of debris we've been walking through suggests we're already in a section where the water was slowing down."

Rick nodded in agreement, having thought the same. That meant they should have enough time left to cover the entire section before turning around and heading back. He was about to say so when something caught his eye. Slowing, he carefully made his way to a spot nearer the centre of the track of destruction where something heavy seemed to have flattened the debris into the mud.

"What is it?" TC asked, already making his way over.

Rick's keen eyes moved away from the slight indentation, now straining to spot even the slightest clue that their friend had been there. He was rewarded several long moments later when he saw the faint outline of what might be a boot. Crouching next to it, he pointed it out to TC by tracing the air above the partial print with a finger. "Could be part of a boot?" he remarked, looking up at the larger man to see what he thought.

TC was nodding slowly. "Might be. Hard to tell with how wet and soft the ground is."

Rick rose, looking into the forest. "If that is a boot, then he was heading in that direction," he said as he pointed.

"Thomas is trained," TC countered. "He'd know to head back to the road, especially if he's hurt." Neither man commented that Thomas had already been injured even before he'd been swept away by flood waters. "Maybe it's not him," he offered, unable to explain why their first real clue was leading them in the wrong direction.

Rick placed his hands on his hips as he continued staring at the trees. Sighing, he finally replied "We have to check it out."

TC glanced back at the sun, checking its location to confirm that sunset was only a few minutes away. Seeing the larger man's actions, Rick jumped in to try and preempt what he knew was coming next. "Look, you stay on this track and confirm Magnum isn't there, and I'll head into the forest. That way we can cover more ground and make sure we don't miss anything."

Rick's suggestion was tempting, but TC knew how badly things ended when they separated. Their current situation was a perfect example of that. "No," he shook his head firmly. "We finish what we started and then we head back." He raised a hand to forestall his friend's argument. "If we head into the forest, we could easily miss some indication of where he went or get lost ourselves. Besides, do you really want to go traipsing around in there and erase his tracks with ours?"

TC's argument was sound, and Rick knew it but worry for Magnum made his tone sharp as he said, "Fine."

The larger man caught Wright's shoulder before he could move away, letting his hand rest there a moment as he tried to calm his friend. "I don't like it any more than you do. He's hurt and probably wet and tired, but he's also the man who survived the Korengal. If he can do that, he can handle a night out here."

Rick's mind filled with all the reasons TC was wrong; Magnum's prior injuries, his lack of rest, possible infection, and just the fact that he would do anything for them, no matter what. But he bit his tongue, knowing that TC understood all these things as well. It was likely killing the larger man to stand his ground and not let them go stumbling into a situation for which they were ill-prepared. Wright nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging as his head dropped. When he lifted his head, he sighed softly. "I know that, Theodore, but damn if he isn't the biggest trouble magnet I know."

TC snorted, a faint grin on his lips as he replied, "Yeah, hard to believe one person can be so damn unlucky while being so damn lucky at the same time."

The comment pulled a soft laugh from Rick, as had been intended. It was true – Magnum's bad luck seemed to attract adversity the same way the moon was drawn to the sun, yet at the same time, his good luck had him evading situations in ways that made others shake their heads in disbelief. "Horseshoes, man," Rick said as he shook his head. "Gotta be the horseshoes."

TC smiled briefly as he recalled the British soldier they'd met while deployed who'd introduced them to the saying of having horseshoes up one's arse as a way of describing being lucky. His face become somber again as he gave Rick's shoulder a quick squeeze before letting his hand drop to his side. "Let's mark this spot so we can head straight for it tomorrow."

They ended up placing three slightly larger branches upright in the mud before quickly finishing their search of the flooded area. As they'd expected, there were no additional signs of the missing man. As their physical selves made their way back to the road, their minds stayed back at the spot they'd marked, both men wondering, "Where are you, Thomas?"

* * *

Time seemed to both crawl by and pass in the span of a heartbeat; the result was exceptionally confusing, to say the least. Magnum would have sworn that the hours of darkness had lasted forever, as he occasionally drifted off in between lengthy bouts of shivering that caused fresh waves of pain to spike from his injuries. At the same time, mere seconds seemed to pass between one moment of awareness and the next, however it was obvious, even to his befuddled mind, that he was missing long spans of time as he traced the movement of the moon through the trees.

By the time that moonlight was finally replaced by sunlight, he was thoroughly exhausted and very ill. The combination made his thoughts sluggish like molasses on a cold day, and he struggled to remember how he'd ended up in his current position lying beneath a canopy of large ferns. When he'd lost the gossamer wisps of memory for the third, or was it the fourth time, he gave up trying to remember what had happened, simply deciding he should get up and move, regardless of the events that had brought him to his current location.

Moving also seemed to be a concept that was easier considered than enacted. When he failed in his first attempt to sit up, falling back after raising his shoulders a scant two inches off the ground, he realized a different plan was required. Slowly, he rolled from his back to his side, the movement awakening protesting muscles that had stiffened overnight. It shouldn't be this hard, he thought to himself, as he rested for a moment before trying to push himself up onto one arm.

That feat finally accomplished, he rested again, his chin dipping to his chest when his neck refused to support it. The position made his head throb in time with his heartbeat, so he forced himself to lift it, squinting against the sun that was chasing away the gloom. "Where the hell am I?" he wondered aloud, his voice cracking painfully in his dry throat.

With no answer forthcoming, he resigned himself to the fact that he'd have to help himself. "This is gonna suck," he slurred before pushing himself to a seated position. It was then that the dampness of his location finally registered, and he became conscious of another fact - that most of his clothes were cold and wet. He shivered at the realization, now trying to figure out why he'd decided to lay down in what was essentially a large, foliage covered puddle.

He went to pull his wet shirt away from his skin and stopped abruptly when the movement of his left arm tugged uncomfortably on his injured shoulder. Vaguely, he recalled something about being hurt, but couldn't grasp enough of the memory to make any sense of it. "Okay, don't do that again," he said to himself, accepting that he'd injured his shoulder in some way and was better off not using that arm.

He bent one knee and wrapped his good arm around it to help him stay upright. A part of him knew that getting up and walking out of here, wherever _here_ was, would be a better option, but his body seemed too heavy to move. Tipping his head forward, he rested it on his knee, ignoring the uncomfortable ache in his flank from the new position.

He let his mind wander, hoping to make sense of the seemingly random images racing through his brain. Being forced off a boat and into the water, followed soon after by a fight and intense pain; being threatened by guns as he stood next to the Ferrari; someone menacing him overlaid by betrayal, the latter of which hurt far worse than any verbal or physical threat. "Hannah!" he gasped as he flinched away from the memory, almost unsettling his precarious balance.

He swayed dangerously to one side, barely managing to stay upright as he recalled the venomous expression on her face, leaving no trace of the woman he'd loved. Her fury had been all encompassing, and she'd shot him without a second thought, her only hesitation seemingly being whether to shoot him in the head or shoulder and allow the fall from the truck to finish the job.

He gasped at the pain, the ache emanating not from his shoulder, but lower down as his heart broke all over again. He'd told his friends that he was over her, that her betrayal no longer had him second-guessing himself and wallowing in guilt because of his friends' suffering; he'd lied. Her actions stung as keenly today as they had on the day he'd first discovered her duplicity. Despite his assertions to his friends, he'd been unable to convince his heart to stop caring for the woman he'd fallen in love with.

He drew a shaky breath, for the first time noticing how difficult the simple act of inhaling had gotten. The realization had him straightening up as much as his limited strength and the throbbing in his side allowed. The small movement was enough to push a weak cough from his chest, causing him to try and brace his damaged side with his left forearm.

"God," he wheezed out, squeezing his eyes against the sharp pain. Reopening his eyes, he focused on taking short, shallow breaths, letting his gaze settle somewhere in the middle distance. He never should have left Robin's estate. It had been too soon for him to push his battered body, and he was clearly paying for his poor judgement now.

'Nothing new there', he thought to himself as Hannah's role in his latest predicament came to the forefront once more. 'I seem to be the king of bad judgement.' He knew Rick and TC would berate him for engaging in the blame game once again, but he felt miserable enough that he really didn't care. Besides, given his current situation, it would be hard to dispute that he wasn't the architect of most of the bad things that happened to him, and of greater concern, that happened to his friends. It had to stop, before another of them got hurt.

He felt another shiver rack his frame, and idly wondered if it was due to his weakened state or the soggy ground that he'd been unable to as yet move from. The trembling seemed to be increasing, making the pain in his head and body spike. He groaned miserably, wishing he could somehow miraculously appear back in his bed, but another tremor reminded him that his fantasy had no chance of becoming reality.

Biting back another sound of pain, he rolled slightly to his side as he attempted to rise, but the ground lurched and swayed as soon as he shifted. "Whoa," he breathed out, closing his eyes as he ended up once more on his backside. He forced his eyes open, blinking lazily to clear his vision, but to no effect. Each blink was slower than the last, until his eyes didn't open at all. He fell backwards almost in slow motion as the tension seeped from his body, depositing him on his back as consciousness fled.

In the distance, birds squawked angrily as the sound of a man's voice cut through the forest. Unfortunately, the one whose name was being called was deeply unconscious and had no idea exactly how close his salvation appeared to be.

* * *

Rick and TC marched through the forest, their movements seeming angry to anyone who might be observing them. In actuality, it was fear that drove them on, making their steps purposeful while their eyes roved constantly.

They'd argued before they'd left the cottage at first light. Understandably, Higgins had railed against the idea of once more being left behind, and it was only Rick's ability to appeal to her reasonable side that finally had her acquiescing. She'd glared at them, though, making her displeasure obvious, even after she'd relented and agreed that someone needed to be at the cottage on the off chance that Magnum still showed up.

They'd spent a tense night together, getting very little sleep because of their worries for their missing friend. Although they'd all made token efforts to eat and rest for a few hours, their need to find Thomas alive and well had overshadowed their best efforts.

TC had spent his waking hours sharpening a knife, sliding a whet stone across the razor-sharp blade over and over again until finally Rick had gently pried it from his hands. TC had looked up at Rick questioningly, and the smaller man had simply indicted Juliet with a shift of head. The larger man had caught Higgins' eye, offering a nod of apology for an act that soothed him, but had had exactly the opposite effect on the former MI-6 agent.

Rick, for his part, had spent his time looking through every bit of medical equipment they'd brought along. He first examined each item and then carefully repacked it into his own pack, regardless of where it had originally come from. There was no doubt in his mind that Thomas would require medical aid; the only question that remained was how extensive his need would be.

When the sun began to rise, the men were already prepared to depart, the three of them staring uncompromisingly at one another as they reached an uncomfortable agreement. With nothing more than a nod from TC and a wave from Rick, the two were gone, leaving Higgins cooped up once more in the cottage that seemed to be stiflingly shrinking with each frustrating minute that passed.

The men traversed the washed-out route quickly, the ground having hardened somewhat overnight as more of the water seeped away. They stopped at the point they'd marked the other day and turned toward the forest.

"You still think this was Thomas?" Rick asked, needing confirmation from the other man.

TC shrugged as he replied. "Only clue we've got, unless you want to retrace our steps from yesterday and see if we missed something?"

Rick was already shaking his head. "Nah, I just…" He trailed off, not sure exactly what he wanted to say.

TC squeezed his friend's shoulder as he said, "I know, Orville. But only way to find out if Thomas is in there is to go look."

Rick swallowed thickly and raised a hand in an 'after you' gesture, inviting the other man to take the lead. TC led the way into the foliage, moving slowly now as his eyes darted around for any signs of their friend.

"Thomas," Rick's voice called from behind, startling TC as it broke the silence of the morning. The larger man stopped and threw a questioning look over his shoulder. "Can't hurt," Wright replied unapologetically.

"Magnum, you out here?" TC's deep baritone called out as they continued to make their way deeper into the trees.

The thickness of the forest was for once working to their advantage as TC spotted plant stalks and grass that had been trampled and flattened by the passage of someone or something heavy. Nearly a half-hour later, Rick's voice had the other man stopping dead to examine a leaf the smaller man was pointing to. Against the dark green, there was a smear of something else, the red undertone still coming through clearly due to the humidity in the air that hadn't allowed the substance to fully dry.

"Blood," TC stated.

"Yeah, only question is, whose?" Rick replied.

"Only one way to find out," TC responded, beginning their slow walk once more.

"Thomas," Rick tried calling his friend's name again, wishing he could will the other man to answer.

A bird squawked angrily in reply, pulling a soft laugh from TC. "Don't think they like you disturbing their sleep," he quietly joked.

They travelled another fifteen minutes before TC halted their progress, this time turning slightly sideways so the other man could see him bring a finger to his lips. Rick was immediately on alert, implicitly trusting that his friend had spotted some kind of danger. Unconsciously, he inched closer to the larger man, turning his back to him and scanning the area.

Several minutes passed in near silence, broken only by the regular sounds of the rainforest. Feeling the tension slowly bleeding from the man at his back, Rick allowed himself to relax, turning to face the man as TC did the same.

"What was it?" Wright asked.

TC was shaking his head, his eyes still looking around for some sign of whatever had alerted his senses. "Not sure," he finally said. "Maybe nothing," he added, rubbing a hand tiredly across his face.

"Lack of sleep and paranoia aren't a good mix," Rick stated knowingly, but without censure.

TC nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it was probably nothing."

"Let's take a quick break," Rick suggested, already swinging the pack from his back. He moved around TC a couple steps, intending to hang the bag on a nearby tree branch. Before he could reach it, he found himself tripping over something unseen, the knee-high ferns that he'd waded into obscuring the ground. It was only TC's quick grab for his arm that saved him from going down.

"Thanks man," Wright said, but the other man's attention was elsewhere.

Rick followed his friend's gaze down to large growth of ferns where the tip of a shoe was now visible. "No way!" he exclaimed without thought as TC knelt down to part the foliage.

"Way," TC replied, revealing the still form of their missing friend.

To be continued...

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Next chapter will be posted on Sunday. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	8. Chapter 8

As was usually the case with their friend, Thomas had once again managed to surprise them, this time it was by being where they'd least expected.

"Good thing your Spidey senses told you to stop," Rick said as he hung his backpack on a tree branch and began to rummage inside. "How is he?" Some might say that he should have first checked for a pulse to confirm the presence of life, but Wright had absolute faith that their friend hadn't left them.

TC confirmed that belief moments later with his reply. "Pulse is too fast, and his breathing is too shallow. Plus, he's pretty much soaked through from lying on the damp ground." He paused for a moment as he observed the man, trying to figure out what was bothering him. "He should feel way colder than he does."

The men's eyes met as they declared in unison, "Fever."

"His wound is probably infected," Rick stated.

"Which one," TC countered, receiving a snort in reply.

"Alright, let me take a quick look before we move him," Wright said, squatting down on Magnum's other side. He placed a thermometer strip on the insensate man's forehead and then began a quick physical check of his head, neck and torso. "Side's a little spongy," he declared, indicating Magnum's left flank.

"Wouldn't be TM if he didn't bring a broken rib or two to the party," TC said.

Rick turned his attention to the thermometer strip, pulling it off and showing it to the other man. "102.5." The number wasn't bad but confirmed that Magnum was suffering from a fever.

"Let's see if sleeping beauty will join us." Rick gently slapped Magnum's cheek, trying to coax the man into awareness. "Tommy, come on buddy. It's time to wake up." Thomas's eyes rolled beneath closed lids, but he gave no other indications of awakening.

"Okay, buddy, you asked for this." Rick moved a hand to Magnum's earlobe, pinching it hard between two fingers. He was rewarded with a low moan as Thomas tried to roll his head away but was stopped by Wright's hand on the side of his face. "I know it hurts, but I'll stop if you open your eyes."

Magnum groaned again, his breaths beginning to speed up as he became more aware. Seconds later, his eyelids fluttered open, only to close again as he took a deeper breath. With his eyes clenched against the pain in his side, he tried to curl up, but TC and Rick's hands stopped him from moving.

"Hey, none of that now. You're okay." Rick's voice was calm and steady, knowing Thomas would need to anchor himself to something safe as he returned to them.

Several long seconds passed before Magnum's breathing eased and he squeezed his eyes open once more, settling first on one and then then other man. "Rick? TC?" The names were croaked out past a painfully dry throat and cracked lips which had the larger man immediately reaching for and uncapping a water bottle.

Placing one hand behind Magnum's head, TC lifted slightly as he tipped the bottle against the prostrate man's lips. He allowed only a few swallows before pulling it away, noting their injured friend's displeasure at the act. "Sorry, Thomas, but you know the drill. We'll see how that stays down and then you can have more."

Nodding slightly, Magnum asked, "Where are we?"

He missed the looks of concern on his friend's faces as the men glanced at each other. "No need to worry about that now," Rick replied. "Can you tell me where you're hurt."

Thomas blinked owlishly at the man before he answered in a somewhat questioning tone, "Ev'rywhere?"

Rick smiled as he replied, "I'm sure it feels that way, but I don't think it's quite that bad." He waited several moments, but Magnum didn't say anything more. "I'm just gonna have a look, okay?" At Thomas' nod, he said, "TC, there's a pair of shears in the front, left pocket of my pack."

Wordlessly, the larger man got the requested item and then watched as Rick used the heavy-duty, medical scissors to cut cleanly through the left sleeve of Magnum's shirt. A couple more snips at the shoulder of the garment revealed the ruined gauze that covered Thomas' gunshot wound.

Rick looked at the filthy bandage in disgust. "No way that's not infected." He peeled it back, revealing red, weeping skin. Without needing to ask, TC handed him a bottle of antiseptic and more gauze. "This might sting a little."

"That's what you always say," Magnum slurred, dredging up a faint grin, finding comfort in the normality of one of his friends patching him up, while at the same time trying to make it easier on the man.

"Just try not to scream like a little girl this time," TC teased as he moved closer to place his hands on Magnum's chest and arm.

Thomas let out a soft snort that turned into a weak cough. Above him, the two friends traded another worried glance. When the coughing ended, Rick began, warning the man by saying, "Here we go." Thomas tensed at the first touch of antiseptic but didn't utter a sound, even when the other man started scrubbing at the dirt and dried blood that was crusted around the bullet's entry point.

When he was satisfied that the wound was as clean as possible, Rick accepted the proffered bandage from TC and efficiently covered the inflamed skin. "All done," Wright said as he gently squeezed his friend's arm.

"Home?" Thomas breathed out, the longing in his expression palpable. Rick dropped his head for a moment, overcome at the pain he'd had to cause the other man, while TC stepped in to do what he couldn't.

"Soon, Thomas. We just need to make sure there's nothing else serious we need to deal with." His gaze shifted to Rick, waiting a moment for the smaller man to compose himself and do what must be done. "Ready, Orville?" he asked when his friend lifted his face from his chest.

"Yeah," he said, before clearing his throat, and repeating himself more strongly. "Yeah, Thomas has been out here way too long. It's time to get him home."

The resolve on Wright's face brought a hint of a smile to TC's. "What's next?" he asked, ready to once more assume his role as assistant to Rick's medic.

Magnum's eyes were growing glassier and Wright knew the man wouldn't be awake much longer, no matter how much he poked and prodded. "Better get the antibiotics; they're in the pocket next to the shears." He'd brought the medicine their friend had received upon his discharge. Although they probably wouldn't be enough to deal with the infection that had set in, it was better than nothing until they could get the man back to civilization and something stronger.

TC read the directions on the bottle and dropped two pills into his hand, returning to Thomas' side with the antibiotics in one hand and the water bottle in the other. "Says to take with food."

"Mm," Rick hummed in agreement. "We need to get on top of that infection as soon as possible, so we'll just have to risk it." He continued working on the buttons holding Magnum's shirt closed, trusting that the other man would get the pills into their injured friend.

"Open up, TM," the larger man instructed, slipping the pills between the slightly parted teeth. He helped Magnum take a couple swallows of water and then gently lowered his head down, frowning at how much effort the simple act of drinking seemed to have taken.

Meanwhile, Rick had managed to unbutton the mud encrusted shirt, not wanting to cut away the garment and leave their friend with nothing to wear. He parted the two sides to reveal Magnum's torso. TC whistled at the bruising that seemed to cover almost every part of the exposed skin. The sound seemed to rouse Thomas who said, "You're not my type, buddy."

TC snorted as he replied, "Please, I'm everyone's type."

The comment pulled a soft laugh from Magnum before immediately turning into a grimace as the pain in his flank spiked. His right arm moved automatically to the source of his discomfort, but Rick caught it before it could land. "Uh, uh, Tommy, that's not a good idea. Pretty sure you've cracked a couple ribs."

Magnum squinted up at his friend for a moment as his sluggish mind worked to comprehend what he was being told. Several seconds later he said, "You have to check, don't you?"

"Need to know if they're cracked or broken before we try moving you," the medic replied as he nodded and replaced his friend's arm on the ground next to him.

Magnum tried rolling his eyes in response, but the act just made him dizzy. "Do it," he breathed out, closing his eyes as he prepared for the pain of having his ribs examined.

TC gripped Magnum's right hand in his as Rick began pressing firmly against each rib in turn. The medic began on the right side, fairly confident that the ribs there were bruised but intact. With a warning glance to TC, he moved his fingers to the darker bruising covering Magnum's left side, unsurprised when he found two ribs that gave way, each of which was accompanied by a sharp intake of breath by his patient.

When he was done, Rick gently placed his hand over his friend's ribs, his touch now one of comfort. "Breathe, Thomas," he instructed, his hand rising and falling with several of Magnum's shaky inhales and exhales before he was somewhat satisfied.

"Broken?" TC asked, looking for confirmation from Rick.

"Two," Wright replied, pointing to their location. "I'll tape them, but we'll need to be careful how he moves on the way back."

"Wish we could get the chopper in here," the larger man complained, already dreading the pain they'd be putting Thomas through to get him back to the road. "Hospital or cottage?"

"Hospital," Rick replied as he deftly ripped another piece of tape and placed it to support one of the broken ribs. "Over the counter antibiotics aren't going to cut it."

Nodding, TC pulled his phone out with his free hand and dialed Higgins, unsurprised when she answered on the first ring. Explaining the situation to her, he asked her to clean their stuff out of the cottage and meet them back at the Range Rover. From there, they'd head as quickly as possible to the nearest hospital. At one point, she asked whether she should request a medical chopper, but a quick head shake from Rick had TC replying no.

"Alright, I'll text her when we're closer and have a better idea of how long it'll take to get back to the road. She's not happy about it, but she'll meet us there," he explained, putting away his phone and clasping Thomas' hand in both of his.

"Surprised you convinced her to wait for us," Rick said as he put the medical tape away. "Thomas, we need to roll you onto your right side."

A look at TC had the larger man releasing his friend's hand and rolling Magnum closer so he could brace the injured man. Thomas groaned at the motion.

Rick grimaced as he pulled the wet shirt away from his patient's side, revealing the site of the knife wound, which was covered by another filthy bandage.

"I forgot about that one," TC remarked as he watched the medic's skilled hands remove the dirty pad and begin cleaning the wound underneath.

"I almost did too," Rick admitted, as he scrubbed away as much blood and grime as he was able.

"Wish you had," Magnum mumbled, the renewed pain of having the injury cleaned having brought him to a greater level of awareness.

"There, all done," Rick proclaimed as he added a last piece of tape to the gauze he'd placed over the long cut.

Thomas shivered at the touch, causing Rick's brow to furrow with worry. He placed a hand on the injured man's forehead, unhappy with the heat he found there. "We need to get him moving," he announced, standing up to pack up the last of his medical supplies.

"What about his wet clothes?" TC asked, unwilling to let their friend suffer any more than necessary.

"They probably helped keep his temperature down," Rick replied, wondering at the fact that Magnum had yet again turned the bad luck of lying on the wet ground into something good. "Plus, we don't have anything dry for him; may as well just leave him in what's he's wearing."

TC wasn't overly happy by the suggestion, but acknowledged that something was better than nothing, even if that something was wet and filthy. "You bring a stretcher?""

Rick shook his head with a look of genuine remorse on his face. "Wouldn't fit into my pack."

"No problem, we can manage," TC assured the other man. "Not like it's the first time we've hauled his skinny ass around."

Rick grinned at the comment, his expression of humour fading rapidly as he recalled the last time they'd had to carry their injured friend. At least this time they wouldn't have to worry about dodging enemy soldiers.

"Thomas," Wright addressed their friend as he knelt beside the prone man. "We're going to get moving now." He waited several seconds for some sort of acknowledgement, but Magnum stayed silent except for his labored breaths. "Just let us do all the work, okay?" This time he was rewarded with a slight dip of Thomas' chin, and it was easy to see the small movement was about all he had energy for.

Trading glances, the two men repositioned themselves, preparing to haul their friend to his feet. "On three," TC directed.

Rick nodded, tucking himself under Magnum's uninjured shoulder and lifting when the other man hit three. Together, they managed to get their friend standing, and it became obvious that there was no way he'd even be upright without their help.

TC repositioned his hands, not having the luxury of putting Magnum's left arm over his shoulders and nodded to Rick to indicate he was ready to move. They walked forward together, Thomas at least making an effort to move his feet, and for a fleeting moment, Rick thought their journey might turn out to be easier than first expected. He would soon learn just how wrong he was.

To be continued...

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

**Due to New Year's Day, the next chapter will be posted on Thursday.** Wishing everyone a healthy and happy 2020!

Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	9. Chapter 9

"Damnit, TC, do you have him?" Rick gasped, struggling as he suddenly found himself holding all of Magnum's weight.

"Yeah, just a sec," came TC's raspy reply, and Rick felt the relief of sharing his burden a moment later. "Sorry, he slipped out of my grasp."

Rick simply nodded, saving his breath for walking rather than talking; it was probably a first for him. Had TC not been similarly out of breath, he was certain the man would have commented. As it was, they were just glad to still be on their feet and moving forward.

When they'd first started out, Magnum had been somewhat cognizant of what was happening. Despite his rough condition, he'd gamely moved his feet and carried a good portion of his own weight. Sadly, that hadn't lasted long. With exertion came a rise in temperature, and Thomas' fever had climbed quickly despite his damp clothes. As his fever rose, his energy levels diminished proportionally, until the two men were carrying the full weight of their unconscious, and very ill, friend.

"You re-thinking that chopper, yet?" TC managed between pants.

"Sure," Rick snarked back. "They coulda landed right over there on that flat rock."

TC snorted and hauled Magnum forward another step, his hands starting to cramp painfully with the strength of his grip on the insensate man. "Nah," he countered. "Coulda had 'em hover and lower a basket. White Knight always travels in style."

Rick barked out a breathless laugh. "You sure you want to give Robin more ideas for this heroic idiot?" He glanced affectionately towards Magnum's face, wishing the man still had enough strength to hold his head up. "How much farther?" he asked as he forced his rubber legs forward once more.

"Think we're gettin' pretty close," TC replied. They'd begun their ascent upwards several minutes prior, and while the incline had seemed relatively gentle going downwards, it felt like pure Hell when moving in the opposite direction.

Rick stumbled on his next step, his ankle rolling on some debris. "Stop," he gasped out as the leg went out from under him and he ended up on the ground on one knee. Fortunately, TC had followed him down, saving Magnum from a painful drop to the ground.

"Let's put him down," TC instructed.

"No, it's fine, let's just keep going," Rick argued, readying himself to stand.

"Orville, we won't be any good to him if we exhaust ourselves before we get back to the road," TC countered. Several long seconds passed before Rick grudgingly nodded, moving out from underneath Magnum's arm so the larger man could lay him down on the ground.

Rick left himself fall backwards onto his butt, feeling instant relief that his muscles were no longer straining to carry the equivalent of his own bodyweight. When he turned to check on Magnum, TC stopped him. "Don't worry about Thomas; I'll check on him. You take a minute and make sure that ankle is okay."

Nodding, Wright pulled his foot closer, prodding at it and then tenderly rotating it to check for any signs of pain. He grimaced but pronounced himself fit.

TC glared in reply. "You sure you don't want something from your magic medical bag to stabilize it?"

To his credit, Rick considered his friend's question for a moment before shaking his head. "No, it really is okay. A little sore, but a mild sprain at worst." As TC continued to stare at him, he added, "Nothing that'll keep me from helping you get Thomas to the Rover."

TC finally relented with a slight dip of his chin before turning his attention to their patient. As he'd feared, the shoulder wound continued to weep, and while the bleed was slow, it was persistent. The bandage on his flank was relatively clean and dry in comparison, which offered a minor bit of relief.

"How's he doing?" Rick asked, massaging his ankle with one hand, while pushing his sweat-slicked hair back with the other.

"About as well as you'd expect," TC sighed. The bullet wound is seeping pretty steadily, but it's his breathing I'm worried about the most. Wright nodded in agreement, having been anxiously listening to every wheezing inhale and exhale since they'd started walking.

Rolling to his side, Rick crawled closer to examine Magnum's ribs. The pressure caused Thomas to furrow his brow in pain but wasn't enough to bring him back to consciousness. "Nothing's shifted, as far as I can tell," the medic proclaimed.

"Thank God for that," TC muttered, absently wiping away the sweat at Magnum's temples. They managed to dribble a few drops of water into his mouth, before slaking their own thirsts in deference to the growing heat.

Checking his watch, Rick decided that it was time to get moving again. Carefully, he regained his feet, placing the majority of his weight on his left foot before slowly placing more pressure on his sore right ankle. When it held, he bent down towards Magnum, waiting for TC to raise the man's upper body before helping to bring the man to his feet.

"Ready?" TC asked once they had Thomas settled between them.

"As I'll ever be," Rick confirmed, and they began their trek once more.

They'd been moving for only a few moments when Magnum began showing signs of waking, prompting Rick to bring them to a stop. He turned towards Thomas as much as he was able while still maintaining his grip. "You back with us, Tommy?"

Magnum rolled his head, fighting against the overwhelming fatigue that seemed to be holding his body hostage.

Adjusting his grip slightly, TC freed one hand and used it to lift their friend's chin up and reveal his face. "Thomas, you in there, brother?" he asked.

Both men could see that Magnum was struggling to lift his heavy lids, and he finally succeeded after several attempts. Rick grinned broadly at the thin slits of brown that were revealed. "Welcome back, brother. Maybe now you can do some of the work," he teased.

While Magnum had managed to open his eyes, it was clear he had little awareness of what was happening. "Thomas?" TC prompted, hoping to get the other man to respond.

When their friend's head began to dip forward once more, they gave up and decided to simply keep moving. With their first step, Thomas' body tensed, and he flailed in their grips in an attempt to free himself.

"Whoa, Thomas, stop!" Rick cried, as he tried to hold on.

One of TC's hands automatically came up to Magnum's chest in an effort to calm the suddenly panicking man. Thomas cried out at the contact when the larger man's hand accidently landed on his broken ribs, and he bucked hard to get away from whoever was causing him pain.

"Grab him!" TC shouted to Rick, feeling his grip already slipping. Another violent jerk of his body had Thomas free, both men grabbing for him, but unable to catch him as he took a couple of faltering steps backwards out of their reach.

"TC, stop," Rick commanded, raising a hand up to reinforce his words. He stood stock-still, worried that any movement on their part would have their ailing friend running away.

Magnum now wore an expression of terror on his face. His eyes were wide open, and they scanned the area wildly, bouncing from one point to another without stopping for more than a second. His entire body trembled, making his precarious balance even more so, and Rick thought it remarkable that the man was still on his feet. Thomas' left arm had snugged in tightly against his side, unconsciously protecting the numerous injuries he'd incurred. While others might speculate that Magnum wasn't a threat to anyone but himself, Rick and TC knew better, having witnessed the results of his indomitable will too many times in the past.

"How long we gonna stand here?" TC softly asked.

"Until he knows we're not a threat," Rick replied, his eyes still locked onto the sick man who had now begun to sway.

"Not sure he has that kind of time," the larger man countered, concerned that Magnum would be hitting the ground at any moment.

"Never underestimate TM," Rick reminded him. In a slightly louder voice, he said, "Thomas, you're safe. We got out, all of us, and we're in Hawaii."

Magnum's eyes momentarily flickered towards Wright, but just as quickly skittered away. He could hear someone talking to him but couldn't discern the words. The hot pain in his left side tore at him like some living thing, and it was all he could do to remain on his feet. When someone had ruthlessly pressed against his broken ribs, his adrenaline had spiked, giving him the strength he'd needed to pull away from those who were hurting him. Now, he was trying to evaluate the situation and figure out his next move, but his muddled brain was refusing to cooperate.

He could feel the tremors in his limbs, which just made his body's pain burn more keenly, and as hard as he tried, he couldn't get them to stop. To make matters worse, his vision kept sparking with flashes of white that made identifying the two figures nearly impossible.

"Thomas, you're with friends," Rick tried again, keeping his voice low and soothing.

Magnum heard the voice but was still unable to identify the speaker as a friend. In frustration, he raised a hand to his head, placing a clenched fist against his forehead as he mumbled, "No."

He could feel his body shutting down, even as he railed against it. His captors had never been anything other than predictable: predictably cruel, predictably spiteful, and predictably brutal. If he faltered now, he would pay his penance in blood, the men's boots and fists extracting their payment in the most painful of ways. "Can't…not again," he whimpered in anticipation of the remembered pain.

Rick and TC caught the words and a fearful glance passed between them, the former swallowing hard at the realization of the nightmare their friend was once more experiencing. "Not again, Thomas," he managed, his throat closing as tears pricked at his eyes.

"Not ever," TC added, grief for what their friend had endured painting his features. "You've already given more than any man should. Now it's our turn to carry you, brother."

_Brother_. Magnum mouthed the word soundlessly as a thread of recognition tugged at his subconscious. He'd always wanted a brother but had ended up an only child after his father's untimely passing. Later, it had been the concept of brotherhood that had prompted him to join the Navy. Though he'd formed some bonds with the men he'd trained and been deployed with, he'd never truly felt the kinship of brotherhood. That changed when he went through BUD/S.

The rigours of SEAL training were intended to bring them together, and the relationships forged were as hard as steel. But there had been one in particular, Sebastian Nuzo, who'd been exactly what he'd always imagined a brother would be. Loyal, protective, and always pushing Magnum to be his best. It was the first time he'd understood that family wasn't defined by blood.

"Nuzo." The word came out strangled as Thomas was assaulted by the images of his friend's death. The fact that his brother had been tortured before he'd died had been bad enough, but the smell of his body left in the Hawaiian heat was something he'd never be able to forget.

Overcome by the memory, Magnum dropped to his knees, bile rising in his throat before he could try to stop it. Moments later, he was bent over retching helplessly, bringing up the small amount of water his friends had managed to get into him.

The men had moved as soon as they'd heard Nuzo's name and had caught Thomas before he could collapse forward onto the ground. Now, they held him on both sides, TC rubbing circles on the man's sweat-soaked back while Rick kept up a steady stream of nonsensical assurances.

The retching soon turned to dry heaves, bringing tears of pain to Magnum's eyes. Getting sick was bad enough, but doing so with broken ribs was a unique form of agony. When Thomas' stomach was finally done rebelling, he sagged helplessly between the two men, still unaware that he was with friends, but too exhausted to care.

The men gently shifted him to one side and lowered him to the ground; Magnum took that as his cue to welcome the encroaching darkness.

"He's out again," Rick confirmed after peeling back an eyelid.

"God, that was…" TC trailed off, lacking words to describe how awful it had been to watch their friend in the throes of a flashback.

"Fever's making him confused," Rick replied. "Chances are it'll only get worse before it gets better."

"Worse than that?" TC shook his head, not wanting to imagine anything worse than what they'd just witnessed.

"We've dealt with this stuff before, and we'll deal again," Rick stated firmly.

TC knew the other man was right, but it had nearly killed him to see Magnum so confused while he was so ill. They hadn't dealt with anything even remotely close since their hospital stay in Germany. Wiping a hand across his face, he made a conscious effort to pull himself together. "Yeah, alright," he said, working hard to convince himself as well as the smaller man. "Whatever happens, we'll figure it out."

"Hey, we _can_ do this," Rick found himself reassuring his friend. "I'm not saying Thomas is an easy one to figure out, but we managed fine before."

TC nodded, finally starting to share some of the other man's confidence. "Yeah, and we'll manage this time, too."

Rick grinned at the underlying certainty that imbued his friend's words. "Damn straight we will." He looked at the incline they still needed to traverse. "We just have to get him up there first."

"Piece of cake," TC said with a faint smile on his face. "Better get moving then. We don't want to incur Juliet's wrath for taking too long." He readied himself to lift Magnum to his feet as he spoke.

With an eye roll, Rick copied him on Thomas' other side. "Heaven forbid," he replied as they lifted, resolutely trying to ignore how much their friend felt like dead weight.

To be continued...

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Next chapter will be posted on Sunday. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	10. Chapter 10

They completed the journey to the road carrying Magnum's unconscious form between them. While TC was relieved their friend wasn't aware enough to experience the discomfort of being practically carried between them, Rick's anxiety only grew, recognizing that Thomas was deeply unconscious to not have responded to the pain.

As they traversed the last few feet to the road, Higgins' face came into view, and she moved towards them immediately in an attempt to help. TC waved her off, not wanting to risk transferring Magnum's weight to anyone else when they were so close. "Just have the back doors open so we can put him in," he replied to her unspoken offer of assistance.

With a curt nod, she moved back to the Rover, opening first one back door and then the other before stepping back to observe their progress. As the men approached one of the doors, she scooted inside and onto the back seat, grateful that it was a bench rather than the more typical bucket seats. As soon as Rick lifted Magnum's shoulders high enough, she reached forward to take the ill man's weight. She slowly shimmied backwards as TC and Rick leveraged Thomas' lower body inside, until he ended up sitting partially upright against Higgins' chest.

"You want one of us to switch with you?" Rick asked as he clung to the still open door.

"No, go; drive," she ordered curtly, not wanting to appear too overly worried about the limp man in her arms, but at the same time unwilling to give up her current role as protector. The men seemed to understand and didn't argue with her, simply closing the back doors and moving to the front seats so they could be on their way.

As the vehicle started moving, Juliet forced herself to tear her thoughts away from the hours she'd spent worrying, unable to rest and feeling utterly helpless as Magnum's friends looked for him. Though she might try to convince others that she enjoyed a life of leisure, she'd always been an active sort, preferring to address problems head-on versus analyzing them to death.

The hours since Thomas' former client had phoned had been progressively more stressful, and by being relegated to essentially wait for something to happen, she'd grown progressively more frustrated. That frustration had kept her veins full of adrenaline, which she'd normally bleed off with some sort of physical activity; activity that was once more denied her as she maintained her position in the tiny cottage.

Now that Magnum was finally back with them, she couldn't bear the thought of being parted from him again, even if only to drive the vehicle to the nearest hospital. The realization that the brash P.I. had become important enough to cause her worry annoyed her, but not enough to consider releasing her hold.

"His left side's a mess," Rick interrupted her thoughts, and she looked in his direction to find him turned sideways in his seat so he could talk to her. "Broken ribs, and his shoulder wound opened up."

Higgins nodded wordlessly, half listening to Rick speak as another part of her catalogued what she could of her friend's condition. She could feel Magnum's heart beating against her chest, and to her mind, it seemed a little too fast. His breaths, too, were worrying, each inhale seeming somewhat laboured and accompanied by a low wheezing that suggested a lack of oxygen. His skin was incredibly hot to the touch, but she could feel the man trembling against her, fine tremors racking his frame every few seconds. Despite the heat emanating from his body, he was barely sweating, so she added dehydration to her running tally of woes that currently afflicted the man.

"How much farther?" she asked, unintentionally interrupting Rick as Magnum's condition escalated her concern.

"I'm not exactly sure," TC admitted, sending a pointed look in Rick's direction.

"Right," the smaller man replied, pulling out his phone to search for the nearest medical facility. "Directions coming right up." Within moments, he'd located the requested information, frowning at the realization that the best care would mean driving all the way back to Honolulu. Sighing, he shared the news with the others.

"That's a two-hour drive," Higgins stated, not even trying to hide the worry in her tone as one hand drifted to rest on Magnum's forehead. "Can he…I mean, somewhere closer would be better…wouldn't it?" The uncertainty in her words was so unlike her, but at this moment, she couldn't bring herself to care.

Rick's gaze had shifted to Magnum, unhappy with the man's pallor and continued lack of consciousness, but at the same time confident that none of his injuries were immediately life-threatening. "It's not ideal, but the facilities at Queen's Medical are his best chance, especially if there's complications." He decided not to expand on the possible challenges that might crop up, not wanting to worry the other two further, but refused to budge on his decision to return to the city.

"Alright, Honolulu it is," TC agreed resolutely, his foot depressing the gas pedal a bit more in his need to get them back as quickly as possible.

In the back seat, Higgins bit her lip against the argument she wanted to make. Two hours seemed like an eternity while Magnum struggled for every breath, his ragged inhales and exhales stretching each second to last an eternity. She desperately wanted to point out that Thomas' condition was dire enough to require immediate medical attention, but one look at the men's faces had the words disappearing from her lips before she could give them voice.

Their expressions clearly communicated that they knew exactly how bad Magnum's injuries were. Despite that knowledge, they'd agreed the large and well-known medical centre was the best choice for their friend, the man they considered family. If that was their decision, who was she to dispute it? With a soft sigh, she tipped her face to rest her chin lightly on the ill man's head, tightening her hold slightly while being mindful of his injuries. 'Hold on, Thomas,' she thought to herself, willing the man to once more beat the odds stacked against him.

* * *

When they'd finally arrived at emergency, Rick had immediately jumped out and trotted into the hospital to seek help. Within minutes, Thomas had been removed from Higgins' grasp, and she and Wright had accompanied their friend inside. TC had been forced to find a parking spot for the Rover since it couldn't stay where it was at the entrance to the emergency bay.

The time it had taken for him to park the vehicle had grated on his nerves. He'd wanted nothing more than to be by Magnum's side, even though he recognized that the man would have been taken into an examination room almost immediately, preventing the others from accompanying him. But that wasn't the point.

The three of them – no, the _four_ of them, he corrected himself – had been through hell and back and they'd done it together. Even during the critical first days spent in a German hospital, the men had refused to be separated from each other. It had only taken one hapless encounter between a nurse and a delirious Thomas to convince the doctors that keeping the four within eye and earshot of one another was the right decision for everyone.

With every moment that passed without being at Magnum's side, his panic grew, and he found himself almost running through the halls as he sought out his friends.

"Hey!" a voice cried, as a hand clasped around his arm, dragging him to an abrupt stop.

TC searched the face of the man who'd stopped him, his chest heaving not only with exertion but with the unrestrained fear that was slowly taking him apart bit by agonizing bit.

"You can't run through here," the man said, his calculating eyes taking in every aspect of TC's demeanor. Seemingly having reached a decision, he began to guide the large man as he continued to talk. "The only people who move as fast as you, and are actually excited to be here, are expectant dads." He gave TC a sidelong look as they walked.

"No," he shook his head. "That's not why you're here." They stopped as the man said, "Why don't you tell this lady who you're looking for, and we'll do our best to point you in the right direction."

TC blinked in surprise as he found himself in front of a desk with a woman looking at him expectantly, her fingers poised over her keyboard. "Thanks for bringing him my way, Dr. Campbell. I'll take care of him from here."

"I have no doubt," the doctor replied. Turning his attention once more to TC, he squeezed the man's arm before releasing him. "I hope whoever you're here for is alright."

"Thanks doc," Calvin managed to mutter, offering a slight smile to the man before he turned and walked away. Focusing once more on the woman at the admissions desk, he said, "Magnum, Thomas Magnum. He was brought into emergency about 10 minutes ago."

"He won't be in the system yet," the woman replied confidently. "Follow the yellow arrows to the emergency waiting room and someone will find you there."

TC gave a nod of thanks before following the instructions he'd been given, this time consciously focusing on keeping his stride at a fast walk instead of his previous jog. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he found his friends sitting in the room he'd been directed to. "Any news?" he asked as soon as he was within their sight.

Rick shook his head, lips pressed tightly together as he struggled to contain his worry.

"Okay," TC said softly under his breath. "Coffee?" he asked more loudly.

Rick nodded while Higgins seemed surprised by the question. "Yes, but I'll get it," she replied as she stood and crossed the distance between them. Grasping his arm, she led him to the seat she'd just vacated, gently pushing him to sit.

TC made to protest, but Juliet had anticipated his attempt to rise and forestalled the attempt with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Let me," she said, pitching her voice so that only he could hear. "Besides, I think you need to stay here." Her eyes darted meaningfully in Rick's direction causing TC to give a small dip of his chin in understanding.

Higgins flashed him a brief smile before turning on her heel, calling back over her shoulder, "Be right back."

TC leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands together as he rested his forearms on his knees. "How was he?" he asked, proud that his voice didn't waver and betray any of the strong emotions he'd been fighting since they'd discovered their injured friend.

Rick sat up and then pushed to his feet, no longer able to remain sitting while they waited for news. "He was waking up when we brought him in," he replied, his tone colored with tension.

TC's head shot up at the man's words, new lines of worry etched in his face. "He know where he is?"

Rick dragged a hand across his face before allowing it to drop to his side. "Yeah, maybe," he began before pausing momentarily. "I don't honestly know."

Calvin's mind dredged up images of a confused and hurt Thomas, the memories coming unbidden and making his heart race with fresh adrenaline. "You know which room he's in?" He began to stand even as he posed the question.

"Yeah," Rick said, turning towards the corridor at his back to lead the way.

They'd taken only a few steps when a loud crash echoed from further down the hall. The sound was immediately followed by a cry of pain. The men exchanged panicked looks as they sped up, honing in on the room the noises were emanating from.

A man's voice rose about the din, issuing curt orders moments before a shout rang out. "No!"

Rick and TC skidded to a halt outside the examination room, chaos greeting their wide eyes. "Aw, hell," the larger man moaned as he shook his head sadly.

To be continued...

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Next chapter will be posted on Wednesday. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	11. Chapter 11

The sensations were indistinct, but persistent. A touch here, a prod there, bright lights flashing before his eyes, leaving white spots behind. He groaned miserably, just wanting to be left alone and allowed to return to the darkness. It had been quiet there and blissfully pain free. Now, he was assaulted by the many complaints of his damaged body, each one screaming more loudly than the next in a bid for his attention. He groaned again as his grip on unconsciousness wavered, forcing him ever more closely to awareness.

"That's it, Mr. Magnum," a voice coaxed. "I need you to open your eyes for me so we can properly assess you."

He tried to turn his head away from the speaker, only to have his chin caught in someone's grasp and the movement aborted. "None of that now, Mr. Magnum. From what your friends told me, you've been sleeping for far too long. How about you just open your eyes for a minute, and then I'll let you go back to sleep?"

Thomas had no idea of the speaker's identity, but the man was starting to seriously tick him off. Each request brought him closer to full awareness, and the extreme discomfort that was growing steadily sharper as his mind awoke.

Something hard rubbed across his sternum, causing him to pinch his face in pain while his right arm flailed upwards to stop whatever was being done to him. A hand caught his wrist before he could make contact, bringing with it a flash of memory of other times when he'd been restrained and hurt.

"No," he slurred through dry, cracked lips, struggling to pull his arm free of whoever held him. The pressure of fingers around his wrist only increased in response, sending a flare of panic through his exhausted system.

"Stop it," he breathed out, his legs now shifting on the hard surface beneath him, his mind not registering the feeling of starched hospital sheets against his overheated skin, his filthy shirt having been cut away almost immediately upon arrival.

"Let's get an IV started," the male voice commanded and the hold on his wrist shifted to press his arm down against his side.

Still not understanding what was happening, Thomas tried to follow the arm and roll to his side, but foreign hands were suddenly all over his bare skin pressing him back. "No," he repeated, his voice stronger as his eyelids fluttered open.

There were people surrounding him, hovering uncomfortably close. It was impossible to tell how many there were as his vision refused to clear no matter how many times he blinked. His right arm was still restrained, and he shifted his left in an attempt to free the trapped limb. As soon as he moved his left arm, a fresh burst of pain flared in his shoulder, causing another round of cold hands to press against him.

Thomas gasped at the pain, his agony now melding with the anxiety of being held. With a burst of adrenaline-fueled strength, he wrenched his right arm free and lashed out at one of the blurry shapes, before rolling to his left side to protect his aching shoulder. Had he been even somewhat coherent, he would have realized what a poor decision that was as the injuries to his flank and shoulder screamed at him as soon as he shifted his weight.

He let out a weak cry at the fire that seemed to consume his left side, burning from his shoulder to travel down his side before traveling outwards to his hip and fingertips. His mind was still trying to come to terms with the mind-numbing pain as the people surrounding him rolled him onto his back. The new position relieved the painful pressure on his injuries, and he gasped at the sudden relief.

His skin was covered in a cold sweat and he shivered as the cool air around him caressed his body. The involuntary movement brought forth another moan, which immediately turned into a weak cough. He tried to curl up as the spasming of his diaphragm jarred his fragile ribs, and he found himself pushed back again by a set of unknown hands.

Thomas' lungs continued to seize as he reacted to being manhandled, his confused mind unable to make sense of where he was or what was happening to him. He was consumed by pain and his rapidly fleeing ability to breathe. As the feeling of suffocation intensified, so did his struggles, and he could feel his flailing right leg strike something that clattered loudly.

The crashing sounds were followed by exclamations of surprise, and the hands around him seemed to swarm once more. His left arm flailed up and to the side, connecting with something satisfyingly solid that resulted in a set of hands being abruptly removed from his chest. Taking full advantage, he struggled upwards, still fighting to calm his rebelling lungs.

He'd almost made it to an upright position when a stinging in his arm registered in his foggy brain. Moments later, his limbs turned to jelly, and he found himself slumping backwards in a semi-controlled fall. Weights seemed to have attached themselves to his eyelids, and he blinked owlishly once and then a second time before he couldn't force them open again. As his hold on consciousness fled, he could feel the hands return and a single tear slipped down his cheek as he realized he'd once more failed to escape.

Standing next to the unconscious man, the doctor sighed and released his grip on Magnum's wrist. "Get that IV started and get him into soft restraints. We're not going through that again." He turned to meet the gaze of the two men standing in the doorway, sighing deeply before returning his attention to his patient.

* * *

"The doc injected him with something, which finally calmed him down, but he seemed pretty out of it until that point," Rick said.

"The fever's messing with his head," TC added. "At least he didn't really hurt anyone this time."

"Hurt anyone?" Higgins asked as she processed what she'd just been told.

"Yeah, he'd feel all sorts of guilt for not being able to control himself," Rick expanded.

From the look on Juliet's face, the explanation was sorely lacking, but she decided to ignore that for now and press onwards. "What happened after they injected him?"

TC shrugged as he replied. "Not sure. One of the nurses came and walked us back here. Said the doctor would be out once they were done."

Higgins dragged in a slow, even inhale before she spoke. "So basically, he has no idea where he is or what's going on, he fought against the doctor and nurses trying to treat him, and they had to knock him out before he made things any worse. Is that about right?"

Rick and TC exchanged looks and nods, before returning their attention to Higgins. "Yeah, that's pretty much it," Wright agreed, taking a sip of his rapidly cooling coffee and grimacing slightly at the bitter taste.

"Bloody marvelous," Higgins stated before following suit and taking a drink of her own beverage. She'd been gone for no more than five minutes to get their drinks, but it seemed that Magnum didn't need long to get himself into more trouble.

She'd been surprised to see the vacant waiting room upon her return, but it hadn't stayed that way long and she'd soon spotted the two walking down the hallway towards her. Their demeanor was much more somber than when she'd left, immediately raising her suspicions that something had happened during her absence. Sadly, her instincts had been correct, and she'd felt the tension in her body grow again as she'd listened to the men recount what they'd seen.

A large part of her had been relieved when they'd arrived at the hospital and been able to transfer Magnum to their care. Each minute of the drive there had passed excruciatingly slowly as she'd waited for each laboured intake of air, to the point where she'd found herself barely breathing until Thomas had. She'd clung to his lax body, as if believing he'd slip away if she let him go. The responsibility she'd placed on herself had been enormous and she'd keenly felt the weight of it for every agonizingly long kilometer of their trip.

Once they'd arrived at the hospital, she'd thought the worst had passed. Magnum was finally receiving the care he needed, and their most daunting task would to be waiting for someone to come tell them when they could see their friend. The struggle to keep Magnum alive and safe, however, was past – or so she'd believed.

Now she was hearing that the man's fever was still dangerously high, and his treatment had been further delayed by his panicked struggles against those who sought to help. Really, she ought to have expected this; nothing was ever easy when it came to the headstrong P.I.

Her musings were interrupted by a doctor's approach, and from the way that TC and Rick tensed, this man must have been the one treating their friend. He came directly to where they stood, pointing to the seats with one hand before taking one for himself. "Sorry, long shift already, and your friend added a bit of unexpected excitement." The last words were accompanied with a sad smile, as if the man understood some of what Magnum had endured.

"Dr. Morgan," Rick began, having read the name embroidered on his white coat. He stopped when the doctor raised a hand to silence him.

"I know you want to go see your friend as quickly as possible, and given what happened earlier, I want that too. This isn't the first time I've treated vets," the doctor explained. Juliet gave the man a smile of approval for having remembered Magnum's status as a veteran.

"All I ask is that you be patient for a couple minutes while I give you a rundown of your friend's condition. Then I'll take you to his room so you can see he's alright." He paused, waiting for and receiving three head nods.

"The wounds in his shoulder and left flank…" the doctor trailed off, waiting for someone to fill in the blanks.

"Gunshot to the shoulder and a knife across his ribs," Rick helpfully supplied. "HPD are already aware of both," he quickly added.

Nodding, Morgan said, "Both wounds had reopened. They've been debrided and stitched, but the shoulder was already infected. We've got him on antibiotics and saline to rehydrate him."

"He spent some time as a POW," TC interjected, recognizing that the information was needed to properly treat their friend.

"Thank you for that. I'll change his antibiotics to something stronger so we can get ahead of this," the doctor replied, aware that as a former prisoner of war, his patient's immune system was likely still below par. "He's broken two ribs on his left side and is starting to develop a bad cough. Any idea what's caused that?"

"He, uh, he got caught in a flash flood," TC responded, unsurprised when the doctor's eyes widened at the news.

"After locking himself out of his car," Rick added.

The doctor remained silent for a moment before shaking his head. "I don't want to know, but the flood probably explains why he's so congested. Assuming he aspirated some of the dirty water, I'd say he's working on a nice case of pneumonia, which will only be complicated by the pain in his ribs. The antibiotics should take care of that too, but he'll be pretty miserable for the next 48 hours or so."

Rick smiled mirthlessly as he said, "Don't worry, doctor. We've taken care of Tommy before, and we'll be there to take care of him while he deals with this."

Morgan stood, prompting the others to do the same. He turned towards Magnum's room, believing correctly that the others would follow. As they walked, he continued to speak. "I thought you might say that. Given his performance earlier, I assume you'd like to stay with him?"

TC and Rick exchanged loaded looks, the decision to stay with their friend already having been decided even before they knew Thomas' condition.

"If that's okay," TC replied with a hint of hesitation in his tone. They usually had to argue with medical professionals to be allowed to stay. That this doctor seemed willing to allow it was unusual, to say the least.

"Yes, I'll add a note to his chart; just make sure you stay out of the way of the people caring for your friend," the doctor amicably agreed.

"Thanks, doctor," Rick replied. "I promise, we won't get in the way."

"Excellent," Morgan said as he stopped outside of a partially closed door. "Can I assume your presence will also help with other things not as easily addressed by medical professionals."

Another silence exchange followed between TC and Rick, with the latter man answering just as cryptically. "We can't make any promises, but Magnum will rest easier with us by his side."

"Good enough," Morgan replied as he moved out of the way. "Go, see your friend. I'll be around later to check on him."

The two men slipped inside at once, Higgins hesitating slightly before following them. "Thank you, doctor. Magnum, he's something of a trouble magnet as I'm sure you've surmised. But he, Rick, and TC…" She paused a moment to consider her words, not wanting to give away too much. "They've been through a great deal together, and I assure you, Thomas couldn't be in better hands."

Smiling, Morgan replied, "I have no doubt of that. I can always recognize a tight-knit family when I see one." Nodding a last time, he turned and walked away, leaving a slightly surprised Higgins in his wake.

Family. The word sent a flush of warm through her as she realized the doctor had included her in his description. With a lighter heart, she pushed open the door, eager to see with her own eyes how Magnum was doing.

To be continued...

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**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Next chapter will be posted on Sunday. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	12. Chapter 12

"These have got to come off," Rick stated, the intensity of his tone leaving no room for debate. He applied himself to the restraints around Magnum's right wrist, TC already undoing the ones around their friend's ankles.

"What's going on?" Higgins asked, surprised by the ferocity of the men's actions.

"He'll freak out if he wakes up with these on," Rick explained as he pulled Magnum's hand free and laid it gently on the mattress.

Slightly overwhelmed, Higgins' brain struggled to catch up. "But the doctor must have left those on for a reason."

TC gave her a withering look as he moved from one ankle to the other. "He spent 18 months as a POW. He's in pain and not thinking clearly; you really think these are a good idea?"

Higgins flushed red as she realized the implication of the man's words. While Magnum might awake confused, he was more likely to be combative if he found himself restrained. "Oh, of course," she managed. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay, Jules," Rick replied, immediately forgiving her gaffe. "Listen, there's no reason for all of us to stay."

"Why don't you go home, shower, change, and come back in the morning," TC picked up smoothly where Rick had left off.

An argument quickly flew to her lips, but she paused a moment before speaking, taking the time to observe the two men in front of her. During the past two days, none of them had really slept, and eaten only the barest amount to keep going. They were all muddy from their contact with Magnum, and desperately in need of showers and clean clothes. Despite that, she saw a hard resolve in both men's faces that told her that neither one would be moving any time soon.

While she might have been able to ignore their determined expressions, she couldn't ignore the unspoken request in their eyes. They'd nearly lost one of their own today, and that potential loss had hit them hard. Although she'd been accepted as part of their family, it was clear that they desperately needed some time alone to reconnect.

With that realization, she cleared her throat to speak. "That's very kind of you to offer, and I would certainly welcome the chance to be clean again." She caught the look of gratitude that Rick threw her way. "You'll call me if anything changes?"

Both men nodded in response. "Excellent, then I'll be off. See you lads in the morning." She managed to muster a small smile, receiving a nod of thanks from TC while Rick raised a hand in farewell.

When she'd gone, and the door had closed behind her, Rick finally pulled a chair closer and slumped into the seat. Seeing the look of exhaustion on his friend's face, TC ordered, "Sleep. I'll take the first shift and wake you in four hours."

"Two," Rick contradicted, already settling into a more reclined position as he prepared to close his eyes.

"Three, and don't argue with me or I'll _forget_ to wake you when it's time," TC rejoined, receiving a grin of acceptance from the other man.

Calvin pulled his own chair closer to the bed, reaching forward to place a hand on Thomas' calf. "Rest, brother, we've got your back."

* * *

Whatever the doctor had given Magnum had kept the man deeply asleep for several hours. Rick and TC had both slept, and it was close to midnight, during TC's second watch, when the first signs of a nightmare appeared.

Initially, it was a slight twitching of Thomas' fingers, his nails lightly scratching against the sheets. The sound was enough to pull TC's attention from the magazine he'd been reading, and he watched intently to see what would happen next.

Magnum rolled his head on the pillow, his brow furrowing as if in response to something he didn't like. The frown was followed by a more apparent twitch of his hand, accompanied moments later by a low moan. TC watched as Thomas' breathing sped up, wincing when he heard the slight wheeze that still marked every shallow inhale despite the cannula under his nose feeding him a steady stream of oxygen.

Standing up, TC placed a hand on Magnum's shoulder, keeping the pressure light in deference to the wound there. Pitching his voice lowly, he said, "It's okay, Thomas, you're safe. Whatever you're seeing isn't real."

Magnum's head rolled on the pillow once more as whatever was disturbing him caused his face to scrunch up in pain. There was sweat beading at his hairline now, and TC moved his hand to the man's brow, tenderly wiping some of the moisture away with his thumb.

"You're alright, Thomas," Calvin soothed, continuing to rub calming circles across his friend's temple. Another low moan escaped, this time accompanied by restless movement of Magnum's legs, signifying an increase in the man's level of distress.

TC shifted his hand, cupping his friend's cheek in the hope that contact would break through the nightmare that was holding him captive. He was startled when Rick appeared on Magnum's other side, his hand automatically settling on the detective's forearm, just above the IV. "He's not worried about himself," Wright said softly.

Across from him, TC rolled his eyes, wanting to kick himself for forgetting the number one rule when it came to dealing with their self-sacrificing friend. "Rick and I are fine, Thomas," he intoned sadly, wishing that for once the man would put himself first. "We're safe, all of us, and we're living in Hawaii."

Squeezing Magnum's forearm gently, Rick watched with satisfaction as their words finally began to register. "Sun, sand, beautiful women in bikinis; it's everything a guy could ask for. Of course," he began, smirking at the larger man, "Theodore's still unhappy at his bad luck with the ladies."

With a grin on his face, TC spluttered in mock indignation. "Please, they see this fine specimen of a man and can't keep their hands off."

The two broke into quiet chuckles, entirely missing the moment when Magnum opened his eyes to blearily peer up at them. "S'not true," he countered, his voice weak and thready. "Ladies love _me_."

"Tommy, you're awake!" Rick exclaimed in surprise with a wide grin on his face.

Magnum attempted to return the smile although it was a poor imitation of his usual charming grin. He shifted his gaze to TC next, seeing a matching expression on the larger man's face.

"It's good to have you back with us, brother," Calvin stated fondly, moving his hand downwards to clasp the man's upper arm.

"Didn't go anywhere," Thomas protested, his lips still upturned with mirth. At his words, TC's expression fell, and a glance in Rick's direction showed a similar reaction. "W'as wrong?" he asked tiredly, confused by the odd response.

"Nothing, TM, don't worry about it," Wright replied, certain their friend was too weak and ill for the conversation they needed to have.

Rick's reply struck Magnum as odd, solidifying his belief that something was wrong. Stubbornly, he persisted. "Tell me." The effort it took to push out the two words had him coughing weakly as his congested lungs protested. TC held a cup with a straw to his lips, allowing him to drink a couple swallows of water to soothe the tickle in his chest. Magnum gave a small nod of thanks, not confident that he wouldn't start coughing again if he spoke. Even though he remained silent, his expression was set, letting both his friends know that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Sighing in resignation, TC relented. "You took off on your own."

Magnum's expression became puzzled, igniting the anger Rick had been holding onto since the man had disappeared. "Listen, you took off and didn't tell anyone where you were going."

"And that's despite being ordered not to do anything more strenuous than walking from your bed to the bathroom," TC interjected.

Nodding heartily in agreement, Rick went on. "And then you manage to lock yourself out of the car and get swept away by a flash flood. I mean, who does that?" he asked as he ran out of steam, the torrent of words deflating some of the emotion that had fueled them.

Magnum's eyes flicked from one man to the next, taking in the defeated slump of their shoulders, which told its own story of the worry his friends had experienced. Swallowing carefully, he whispered, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

TC snorted in disbelief. "Pretty sure you're not gonna stop till you give both of us grey hair."

Rick squeezed Thomas' arm to get his attention. "Look, you don't have to apologize. I mean, it's not like you did this stuff on purpose."

Magnum shook his head minutely. "But you think I did." His voice was soft and coloured with defeat, something that didn't fit with the man he was at all.

Rick hung his head for a moment, squeezing his eyes tightly closed against the tears that threatened. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his face to Thomas, letting his sorrow shine through as he said, "No, I don't think you intentionally found trouble." He paused for a long second, wanting to be certain he had the man's attention before he continued. "But you did intentionally leave us behind."

Thomas' eyes widened as he considered the implication of his friend's words. He'd left because he'd needed some time away to process everything that had happened. It had been his need for solitude that had driven his actions, and in his mind, he was running towards something not leaving something behind. That his friends had interpreted his decision so differently was a shock, and he suddenly understood where their anger came from. "Sorry," he said again. "Didn't mean to leave you behind. Jus' needed time." The last words slipped out on the start of a cough, and the men waited patiently until it had subsided.

"We're stronger together, Thomas," TC reminded their friend.

"And we thought you felt the same way," Rick added.

"I did," Magnum hurriedly said. "I mean, I do. I just…" He broke off helplessly, uncertain exactly how to explain to the men why he'd done what he'd done.

"Look, we get it, we do," Rick replied, and a look at the men's faces confirmed to Magnum that they understood. "We're just asking that you don't cut us out. One of us could have driven you."

"Or at least made sure you had food and all your meds." TC stopped and shook his head for a moment. "We get that you need some time on your own to work through things, but as coping strategies go, yours is pretty crappy."

Magnum raised a questioning eyebrow. "Crappy?"

"You prefer crummy, misguided, stupid?" TC challenged with a slightly amused expression.

"No, crappy works," Thomas replied, his lips beginning to turn upwards as he sensed forgiveness in the men's demeanors.

"Hey, this doesn't mean you're off the hook," Rick said, wagging a finger at him.

"Yes, it does," Magnum replied, his eyelids slipping lower as his body relaxed into the mattress.

"We're plenty mad at you, and you're going to have to go a long way to make it up to us," Rick continued his rant, oblivious to the fact that the ill man was losing his battle with sleep.

TC reached across the bed to grab Rick's hand, which still hovered above their sleeping friend. With a tilt of his head, he motioned to Wright to look down, releasing his hold as the man's hand began to lower. "He fell asleep," he stated, his words tinged with fondness.

"Yup, he did. Man knows how to win an argument," TC ribbed the smaller man.

Rick considered arguing for a moment, but then changed his mind, simply rolling his eyes in reply. "Fine," he said as he took a step back and retook his seat. "We're gonna watch him like hawks, right?"

"Oh, yeah," TC agreed enthusiastically. "No way he's getting away with this again, no matter what he thinks he needs. I'll handcuff him to the bed myself and have Higgins park the dogs right outside his bedroom door."

Rick snorted at the thought of the two Dobermans terrorizing Magnum so he'd rest and heal. "You want me to take over now?"

"Nah," TC replied. "Still got two hours on my watch." So decided, Rick leaned back and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep almost immediately.

"Not gonna shake us off so easily next time," TC said to the ill man. Though he knew it wasn't possible, he could have sworn that Magnum's lips ticked upwards in a smile.

To be continued...just one chapter left to go.

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**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Final chapter will be posted on Wednesday. Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, followed or favorited this story. Just a short last chapter to tie things up and then it's on to the next one. Hope you enjoy this final part.

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"You put on sunscreen?" TC asked as he flopped himself into the seat next to Magnum's.

"Yes, mom," Thomas replied, trying and failing to stifle a cough. The action earned him matching looks of concern from his friends, and he rolled his eyes in response.

When it became apparent that the coughing jag was over, Rick added his opinion. "If you weren't so pasty, we wouldn't have to nag you about sunscreen."

"Pasty? It's not my fault the doctor kept me in the hospital for ten days," Magnum retorted, although part of him wondered at the comment since they'd insisted on sitting under the shade of an umbrella.

"That's what you get for inhaling dirty water," TC shrugged with forced indifference.

The day after their midnight chat had seen Magnum's fever steadily increasing as the congestion in his lungs began to suffocate him. Despite the doctor's aggressive regimen of antibiotics, Thomas' ravaged body had succumbed to the bacteria he'd unwittingly inhaled. What followed was five days of anxiety and sleepless nights as the detective had fought for every breath.

Even though he'd barely been getting enough oxygen to keep the doctor from intubating, it didn't stop him from mumbling unceasingly as he railed against unseen demons in his delirium. Rick and TC had refused to leave and argued tirelessly against the return of restraints. In the end, they'd won, barely, but the cost had been their constant vigil to prevent Magnum from hurting anyone, including himself.

When the antibiotics had finally turned the tide and his fever had broken, all of them were exhausted and emotionally drained. Still, there was nowhere else they'd rather be, and it was only the threat of medical intervention that finally removed the men from the room long enough to shower, rest, and eat a proper meal that didn't come from the hospital's cafeteria.

Fortunately, Higgins stepped in while they were gone and steadfastly watched over their friend in their place. She'd been in and out during Magnum's illness as well, but always deferred to the two men, allowing them their rightful place at Thomas' side while she offered what support she could to his protectors.

The relief they'd felt at Magnum's improvement was contagious, and the mood in the room quickly turned from despair to excitement as the doctor began to cautiously discuss releasing his patient. Finally, ten days after he'd been admitted, he was set free and turned over to his friends.

The three eagerly took up the mantle of continuing Magnum's care, ensuring he rested, took his medication, and forcing him to eat carefully planned meals that were nutritionally balanced. It was this latter bit that Thomas especially hated, craving the comfort of a beer after everything he'd endured.

While his friends were ecstatic at his recovery, Magnum was finding it difficult to share their good mood. It wasn't that he was unhappy to be home, but the spectre of Hannah's most recent betrayal still weighed heavily on him. During the day, he found his thoughts wandering to her, and his nights were filled with dreams that replayed in vivid color each moment of suffering that he and his friends had endured because of her duplicity.

Luckily, it didn't take long for the others to notice the dark bags under his eyes despite the many hours he'd spent in bed. That prompted the first of many attempts to get him to open up, attempts which he'd initially rebuffed, but eventually had given in to, offering his friends small tidbits of how it had felt to be betrayed by the person he'd loved.

After several days, his sleep began to improve, and his friends noticed how he was visibly relaxing, the tension bleeding from his body as he continued to heal. It was then that Higgins suggested a change in scenery, understanding that boredom was just as likely to set back Magnum's recovery as his emotional trauma.

As a result, they now found themselves ensconced on a private beach about an hour away from Robin's Nest. The group had obsessively planned every aspect, making sure the trip itself didn't add any undue stress, and that Magnum would be comfortable and pain-free during their stay. From the satisfied look on the detective's face, they'd succeeded.

"Yeah, not really my choice," Thomas said as he took a drink of the beer in his hand. He'd finally finished his meds, paving the way to his one and only alcoholic beverage of the day. Although he'd complained about the restriction to his friends, he didn't really mind, content to savour the single drink he'd been allowed.

Besides, capitulating to his friends made them happy, allowing them a sense of control over a situation where they'd had almost none. He'd done that; through his choices he'd removed the others' ability to decide and, more importantly, to support him. The pain of that decision had been clear in Rick and TC's eyes that night at the hospital, and it was the only thing he could recall with any certainty from the early part of his stay.

That the men had been affected so keenly ate at him; just another thing for which he felt guilty and needed to atone. He'd never tell his friends that, knowing well how upset they got with him when he felt guilt for things they believed he had no control over. Regardless, he would make it up to them in any way he could, including limiting himself to one beer despite knowing there was no reason for the restriction.

Raising his hand and his voice, he offered a toast, "To good friends. I don't know what I'd do without all of you, except that I'd probably be having more than one beer."

His toast was met with chuckles and upraised bottles, Higgins and Kumu joining in from several feet away where they basked in the full sun. Before they could drink, Juliet countered his toast with one of her own. "To family."

The words were softly repeated by everyone and followed by swallows of their drinks. As Higgins and Kumu turned from them to once more face the sun, TC leaned in so that only Magnum and Rick could hear. "You know what they say about family?"

Rick grinned as he replied, "Yeah, you can choose your friends but not your family."

TC shook his head, giving Thomas an inquiring look. "Friends are the family you choose for yourself?" the detective asked.

Shaking his head again, TC grinned broadly as he said, "No. I'm smiling because you're my brother, and I'm laughing because there's nothing you can do about it!"

The laughter that broke out from the men had Higgins and Kumu turning to see what had happened, but the men's wide grins didn't offer any clues. Shrugging, Juliet said, "You know what they say about family: like fudge, it's mostly sweet, but with lots of nuts." Kumu's bark of laughter echoed across the waves.

End.

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**A/N:** Thanks to AZGirl for catching my typos; all remaining mistakes are mine.

Thanks for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts if you're so inclined. Until next time!


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